all that you can't fake
by ulstergirl
Summary: Co-authored with polkadottedmars. After suffering the tragic loss of her longtime boyfriend, Nancy Drew makes it her mission in life to find his killer—but doesn't fully understand where that decision will take her.
1. Chapter 1

_polkadottedmars, a fellow Nancy/Ned fan, started this story; once this year's het-bigbang challenge came around, I asked if she would mind if we co-authored it, and she very generously agreed. I had a blast working on it with her, and I absolutely love this story. I hope you do too. My co-author was absolutely fantastic._

 _The entire story is complete; I will post a new chapter every 2-3 days._

 _This is also an edited version of the story, although plot elements are serious/adult and occasionally violent, and this includes occasional adult language/hints of adult situations. If you are an adult and want to read the full version of this story, you can find it on AO3._

* * *

In retrospect, Nancy should have known.

There was no way she _could_ , of course, but the entire day had been terrible, starting with sleeping through her alarm. She was wrapping up a case in Chicago, making a formal statement to the officers about the man who had kidnapped her and what she had overheard when he thought she was knocked out. The case had involved smuggling, bribery, unimaginable greed—and it had been just what she needed. Until Chris McNamara, one of her contacts on the case, had started flirting with her, anyway.

She had seen Chris at the police station just before giving her statement, and she had blushed and looked away, fidgeting with the locket she wore with her belted navy shirtdress and flats, the locket Ned had given her last year. Her last message to Chris had been firm and unequivocal, and she had silently begged him to just walk away. When she had found the nerve to glance back to where she had seen him, he had been gone.

Ned had just graduated from Emerson. It was a natural time for him to be considering the next phase of his life, what he wanted to do… reevaluating his relationships, working to keep in touch with the people he had bonded with over the past four years. Nancy was uncomfortably aware that part of that likely meant his considering where he wanted their own relationship to go.

And then Chris had fucking kissed her.

Ned had heard it in her voice when they had next talked, and she had told him. God, she hadn't wanted to, and the weary resignation in his voice had frightened her far more than an explosive outburst would have. There had been a time when he had vowed he would fight for them; she could remember that, the salt tang of the sea in the air, curling her reddish-gold hair, the dampness of his palm, the hurt in his eyes. If he loved her, then this would hurt him. Or maybe she had hurt him so, so many times that he was numb.

Her breathless demand that he _say something_ had escalated into the fight she hadn't wanted to have. She could feel it in him, maybe because she feared it so much: he was ready to give up, to find someone who was a _real adult_ , who could be a devoted girlfriend. It had been good while it lasted, but high school sweethearts were never meant to last.

So she had promised him, in that heavy silence when they were both panting, her eyes squeezed shut, her hand buried in her hair. Her cheek had been damp from one escaped tear. "I'm done," she had sworn, her voice cracking. "Baby, I promise you I didn't lead him on, I thought he knew that there could be nothing between us… and it was all that happened." She had paused. "And this is the last time we're ever going to have this conversation."

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

They had spoken since then, and he had agreed to go on a date with her tonight. She wanted to believe she had imagined the reluctance in his voice. But even if he was reluctant, doubting her, if he showed up tonight then she could win him over, she knew she could. His words kept echoing in her head, and she was determined to prove him wrong, if he would only give her the chance.

And he would be there tonight. Ned Nickerson was the sweetest, bravest, most incredible man Nancy had ever known, and he kept his promises. Her words were cheap, though, and now she needed to prove to him that she meant it. He was the only guy for her. He always had been.

As soon as she slid behind the wheel of her Mustang, a fat raindrop splattered against it. _Bad omen_ \- the words flashed across her mind before she dismissed them.

"No," she moaned, shooting a glare up at the baleful gray-purple sky. At least she had prepared for her date before she left River Heights; she definitely wasn't going to have time now to stop and change clothes. Ned had always loved her in one particular blue dress, and she hoped the color of this one might help soften his disappointment. She wanted to save his particular-favorite blue dress for a date not starting at a pizza place.

But she _definitely_ didn't want this one to start off on the absolutely wrong fucking foot. She needed to be on time, so she could show him her apology wasn't empty and she really was recommitting to their relationship. She was sure that she had spent most, if not all, of his sympathy and understanding already.

The Mustang hydroplaned several times on the way to River Heights, and the rain slamming against her car created such a din that she glanced down at her phone periodically to check for notifications, her hands locked to the steering wheel, her shoulders tensed. Her windshield wipers were smacking back and forth at their highest speed, but she was still having trouble seeing past the glass. She saw a few cars pulled over, their hazard lights flashing vaguely behind the curtain of water, and set her jaw.

Better to be a few minutes late than dead. Surely Ned would understand she had no control over the weather.

As though responding to her thought, the tires spun as she hydroplaned again. She took her foot off the gas, muttering a string of curses under her breath, and took her hands off the wheel one at a time, shaking them out. During a brief lull, she glanced down to see her cell phone screen fading. She hadn't even heard the alert, and then the rain began pounding against her car again, driving all thought of it out of her head. Cautiously she slowed just a little more, watching with some alarm as a car in front of her changed lanes too quickly and began to skid.

Nancy was practically in River Heights before she was able to pick up her phone and check the notification. No call, but a voicemail had been received. She groaned. Either the rain had interfered with her cell signal, or she had traveled through a bad area at just the right time, because she knew that her phone hadn't actually rung.

The voicemail was from Ned.

"Fuck," she growled. She was thirty minutes late already, thanks to slowdowns, to rubbernecking at a few wrecks on the highway, and the generally shitty conditions. The rain was still too loud, and if she were actually honest, her heart was pounding too hard for her to listen to the message and actually hear anything. If the message was bad, she didn't want to hear it, and she could always tell him she had never received the voicemail and just delete it later.

She checked her watch when she pulled into the parking lot and hastily parked. Forty-one minutes late. Ned was going to be impatient and disappointed at best, frustrated and angry at worst—no, no, she realized as she scanned the parking lot, looking for his familiar car and failing to find it. It would be worse if he had given up on her and left, and if his message was telling her that he was done.

 _Maybe,_ she thought, fully aware of how desperate she was, _his parents gave him a car as a graduation present and that's why I don't see his here._

She unfurled her umbrella and dashed for the pizza place, noting Bess's canary-yellow Camaro as she dodged puddles and headed for the enticing aroma of garlic, butter, and cheese. Fuck. She should have pulled off the road and called Ned—but the weather had been so bad, and she had been so impatient to get here and see him. Frustrated tears rose in her eyes, but she sniffled and set her jaw, determined not to cry.

Bess Marvin, one of Nancy's three best friends, was seated at a booth and poking at a salad. A soda, presumably diet, was at her right hand. At the seat facing her, Nancy saw, was a tall cup of iced water in a pool of its own condensation, no straw, and no food.

Nancy took all that in at a glance, then scanned the rest of the restaurant, looking for a familiar dark-haired, dark-eyed man. _Maybe he's in the restroom,_ she told herself, but her heart was sinking.

"Hey!"

Nancy had to force a smile she really wasn't feeling as she turned her gaze on Bess. She was happy to see her friend, but she could also feel that second chance she had begged for just going down the drain, and it was killing her. "Hey," she said. "Uh, you haven't seen Ned…?"

"I have!" Bess gestured for Nancy to have a seat. "That's his water. He went out to the parking lot to call you because it was so loud in here, but he didn't come back, and I thought maybe he'd run into you and you'd decided to go somewhere else. It was packed."

The place still was packed, actually. Nancy took her phone out, but she saw no new notifications or messages. "I was in a bad cell area, so I think he tried to call—he left me a message. I haven't had a chance to check it yet."

Bess shrugged, spearing a chunk of tomato with her fork. "He was being so nice. I think Marcus stood me up."

"Oh, honey," Nancy said, almost automatically. Bess just looked so forlorn. "The weather is so awful, I'm sure he's just caught in it…"

Bess shrugged. "Maybe," she said.

And just maybe this was how Ned had felt, too, his doubt and disappointment ascribing malice where there had been none.

Not that Nancy was unwilling to doubt Marcus Vincent, Bess's most recent boyfriend. He was altogether too polished, too—watchful. Nancy couldn't put her finger on it, but the man made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. To Bess, he was dreamy and self-assured and perfect, and clearly well-off, judging by his fastidious wardrobe and flashy jewelry. He reminded her of the kind of guy her father would find some excuse not to accept as a client.

"Let me just…" Nancy nodded at her phone, and Bess shrugged again, giving up on the salad and taking a long sip of her soda. Poor Bess. Maybe it would be best if Marcus really had stood her up. That way she could start looking for someone much, much better.

"Hey. Um, it's…" Ned's recorded voice spoke the time, and Nancy glanced down at her watch. Twenty minutes ago. "I'm at the pizza place and it's pouring. I'm hoping you're still on the way, that the weather's holding you up, but—"

And then Ned went dead quiet, and the hush of the rain filled the silence. Nancy pressed her ear harder against the phone, straining for anything else, wondering if he had been distracted and had put his phone back in his pocket without hanging up. According to her phone, the message wasn't quite finished.

Then his voice returned, but now it was hushed, staccato. "Shit. Nan, I—Bess, she, you need to, when you get here, get her somewhere safe."

The message ended abruptly, with Ned sucking in a breath, but he didn't say anything else.

Nancy pulled the phone away from her ear, her brow furrowed. She rewound the message and listened to it again. The urgency at the end sent a chill down her spine. But when she looked around, nothing seemed out of place, other than poor Bess. At the other tables, couples and groups of friends were joking, laughing, talking. The rain had turned the parking lot into a sea of puddles and gleaming asphalt, and it was still pounding down.

"Hey," Nancy said, and then she cleared her throat. Bess glanced at her. "Looks like our guys ditched us. I'm gonna try to call Ned, and if I don't reach him, why don't we go back to my house and have a girls' night? We can get a pizza to go, some ice cream, invite George over, you know—celebrate being strong ladies who don't need a man to have fun."

Bess gave her a half-smile. "Sounds kinda like what Ned said, that I was welcome to have dinner with you two if Marc didn't show. I mean…"

She was wavering. Nancy reached for her hand and patted it. "I've just had a really shitty day and I'd love to be with my two best friends," she said. "Please?"

Bess dropped her fork, glancing at her salad with unconcealed disgust. "Just 'cause Ned isn't here," she murmured.

"It's not that, I promise. C'mon. Please. I've missed you both."

The cashier handed over a works pizza minus olives ten minutes later, and Nancy smiled and accepted the receipt and the warm cardboard box, her phone sandwiched between her cheek and her shoulder. Her fourth call to Ned's phone clicked over to voicemail, just like the first three had. She sighed and navigated to the messaging screen. _Baby, I'm so sorry I was late. Why'd you leave? Please call me._

"Ready?"

Bess wrinkled her nose when she saw the rain still pouring down outside.

"We can share my umbrella."

The bell over the door jangled as a man walked in, and for a fraction of a second, Nancy's heart stopped. But it wasn't Ned. It was Marc.

"Sorry I'm late," Marc said, striding briskly toward Bess. His slacks were soaked to the thigh, his gelled hair limp. "I'm so sorry."

"Why didn't you call?" Bess demanded, crossing her arms. "You're an _hour_ late!"

"I saw someone from work and needed to talk to him. It lasted longer than I expected." Marc's voice was soothing, apologetic. Then he glanced at Nancy, and she saw a sudden sharpness in his eyes, gone so quickly that she could have imagined it. "Nancy."

"Marc," she said, trying to keep her tone less than obviously hostile. She already didn't like him… and Ned's message, his whispered warning, was echoing in her ears. She needed to get Bess somewhere safe; she didn't know if he had meant away from the pizza place or just to her own house, but she didn't want to take any chances. She just wished she could reach him so he could explain. "Bess? Let's go."

Bess nodded, and Nancy felt a wave of relief. "I'll call you," she told Marc haughtily, walking out with her arm linked through Nancy's.

Bess agreed to call George on the way to Nancy's house, and Nancy tried Ned's phone three more times. Now her call was going straight to voicemail, instead of ringing. She was fighting tears when she left him a message. "I know you're probably mad—I'm going back to my house with Bess. We picked up a works pizza, no olives. If you want to come by, at least we could talk? Please… I'm so sorry, but the weather… just please, at least text me back. I want to see you."

George came over to Nancy's house with a bag of baked chips and a six-pack of lightly flavored sparkling water. They supplemented with a gallon of ice cream, a bag of chocolate candies, the pizza, and some of Hannah's leftover cookies, ignoring the television as Nancy poured out her sadness and frustration over the situation with Ned. She had plugged her dying phone in to charge, and couldn't help periodically checking it just to make sure it had signal and wasn't reporting a new message. But nothing did.

Why had he been worried about Bess? If he had just stepped out of the restaurant to call Nancy, then surely it would have been easy for him to just open the door again and ask her to come with him. Mapleton wasn't so far away, and a big part of her wanted to drive to his parents' house, see if his car was in the driveway, and then pound on the door until he answered. But she was worried about what his reaction might be. If he was angry at her, as she fully believed he was, a night to cool off might be the best.

 _Bad omen._

 _Don't make promises you can't keep._

Nancy, Bess, and George stayed up until they couldn't keep their eyes open, and then Nancy tucked them into the guest bed and shuffled to her own room. The portrait of Ned she kept at her bedside smiled at her as she stripped her socks off.

"I'm sorry," she told him, and this time when the tears welled up, she didn't fight them. It was two o'clock in the morning. Ned wouldn't be contacting her this late. This dread and sadness was going to linger with her all night.

Nancy slept poorly, tossing and turning, plumping the pillow, sighing, groaning when a few tears slipped out and soaked into her pillowcase. She felt strange, almost drunk, when she finally gave up on sleeping and opened her eyes to the scent of coffee in the air. Hannah and her father were up, and Bess and George would undoubtedly be sleeping in.

And Nancy couldn't relax until she had talked to Ned again. They could set up another date, this one at a nice place. He was always so considerate about giving her gifts; she started considering what she might do to make up for missing their date. Bess had made an offhand comment about guys liking flowers, even though most of them didn't talk about it. That, and a cute teddy bear, maybe. _And_ Hannah's chocolate cake, an entire cake. If she made it herself, she thought that might make him consider talking to her.

She felt a few seconds of indignant anger. It truly hadn't been her fault; none of it had. She hadn't been in control of the weather, and she hadn't been able to leave the city ahead of the storm. Yeah, maybe she should have called him and let him know what was going on, but she hadn't wanted to waste time. She had rushed through that terrible storm for no reason. Ned hadn't even been there. And she hadn't been saving Bess from some awful danger.

But her anger didn't make her feel any better. She released a defeated sigh as she tossed back the comforter. Their conversation would be painful, and—and maybe there was another explanation. She hoped to God there was.

Her heart was pounding when she checked her phone, but she saw only a few new email notifications. Nothing from Ned. What would have kept him from calling her _all night_ , from at least responding to her text, if not anger?

Nancy was just brushing her teeth when her phone began ringing. Ned's ringtone! She almost choked, then spat out a mouthful of lather and raced for it.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Nancy? Oh, I'm glad I reached you. Is Ned with you?"

"Oh." She went back to the bathroom, rinsing her mouth. All Ned's numbers were stored under that ringtone, including his home number; she had forgotten. "Hi, Mrs. Nickerson. No, he isn't. I've been trying to reach him since last night. Did he—is he on his way over here?" Her mind began racing, considering what she should wear, how long she had to get ready.

"Not that I know of. He left last night for his date with you, and I haven't seen or heard from him since. I thought that he must be helping you out with a case, but it's not like him to not check in, and when I call it goes to voicemail."

Nancy's eyebrows went up. Maybe Ned was mad at her, but he wouldn't ignore his own mother. His cell phone could be dead. But where _was_ he?

"Um… me too, actually. Bess saw him last night, so I know he was at the pizza place, at least for a little while. If I hear from him, I will definitely let you know." Nancy swallowed. "So, if you see him or hear from him—I left him a few messages, and could you…"

"I'll ask him to call," Ned's mother said. "Maybe he ran into an old friend… I hope he calls soon. Thanks again, honey."

The entire day, Nancy kept checking her phone, her voicemails, her emails, but she received nothing from Ned. She kept trying to think of possible explanations, but she kept imagining that Ned had become so angry or so disappointed with her that he had gone somewhere to brood, somewhere off the grid. Somewhere she would be unlikely to find him. She was eternally grateful to Bess and George, who offered to go with her to look for him. Nancy even considered trying to track his cell phone, but decided that his turning it off was enough of a sign. She didn't want to invade his privacy too, or intrude if he wanted to be alone.

That didn't mean she didn't go through the photos of them together on social media and linger over each with a pang. She loved him, and she was just exhausted and overthinking things. They would go on a date and everything would work out. It had to. _They_ had to.

George invited her to go play tennis, and then the three of them went to the movies; Bess chuckled when she checked her phone afterward and saw three messages from Marc, and Nancy tamped down her jealousy when she saw no messages on her own phone. Nancy went home afterward and crawled into bed with her cell phone beside her, the volume turned up to maximum. She hadn't heard from Ned or from anyone relaying a message from him. She decided to call Ned's house after her nap, just in case Ned had come home and his mother had forgotten to let her know. Maybe Ned didn't want to talk to her, but if he was home, she could wait there for him, beg him in person to talk to her.

She would wear the blue dress he loved. And if she didn't hear from him by tomorrow, she would track him down. Maybe Ned was hurt, but he wouldn't just cut her off this way. It just didn't make sense.

As soon as she woke up from her nap, she checked her phone. Just one message from Bess; nothing from Ned.

She was still yawning as she came downstairs, her heart heavy, tears pricking in her eyes. At any other time, she would be begging the universe to toss a new case into her lap, something to distract her from what was going on with Ned. Instead, she was just lost.

"Nancy. Grilled chicken okay?" Hannah asked from the kitchen. Nancy's father was sitting in the living room, paging through a magazine, with the evening news playing.

"Sounds good," Nancy said, forcing a smile. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Putting the salad together?" Hannah suggested.

Nancy was on autopilot as she sliced tomatoes and cucumbers, tore romaine lettuce, and added some spinach to the mix. She heard her father exclaim something from the other room, but didn't hear what it was.

She poked her head into the living room. "Dad, croutons?"

He nodded, gazing at the television. "Wonder what happened," he murmured.

"What is it?"

He pointed at the screen. "A car caught fire on the river road. They're about to go live." He shook his head.

Nancy came over to the couch and sat down. She really needed some caffeine, or to get a full night of sleep. She was hardly able to concentrate.

"This is Hal Taylor," the reporter on screen said, as the WRVH Breaking News logo flashed beside him. Nancy felt a quiet pang, remembering when she had worked undercover at the station, investigating threats that had been made against the handsome reporter. During that case Ned had come over to the house, and they had cuddled and made out in front of the fire in this very room. His kisses had left her weak in the knees. She needed that again, so much.

"I'm just outside River Heights, at the scene of what I'm told was a single-vehicle accident. We're live with the fire chief, whose crew has just put out the blaze. Chief Laskey?"

Chief Laskey, the visor pushed back on his helmet, shuffled his feet and cleared his throat. "When we arrived, we found the car in flames," he said, then glanced once at the camera. He seemed intensely uncomfortable. "Only the driver inside. It was too intense to be anything—routine. We suspect that an incendiary device may have been used, but it's too soon to know for sure."

"The driver?" Hal asked, gesturing at the ambulance standing by, its lights flashing. "Can you give us an update on the driver's condition?"

Chief Laskey glanced down, then set his jaw and glanced back up, his brow furrowed by grief. He shook his head. "It was too fast," he said, in a rush. "There just—was no time."

The cameraman followed Hal as he approached the caution tape surrounding the scene, and the wide swath of scorched grass supported the chief's theory. The burned husk of the car was almost skeletal; only the rear was still intact. No one could possibly have survived.

"We'll keep you updated as we find out more," Hal promised. "Tragic fiery accident tonight on the river road between Mapleton and River Heights, now confirmed as fatal. No word yet on the driver's identity."

The white rectangle of the burned car's license plate was cast in alternating red and blue from all the lights flashing around it. Nancy stood, her gaze locked to the television screen as she struggled to read it.

"Nan?"

"Ned," she breathed, and then glanced at her father, tears filling her eyes. "That's—that's his license plate— _that's his_ _car_!"


	2. Chapter 2

No matter how many times Nancy told herself this wasn't happening, there was no waking up from this nightmare. When she had first seen Ned's car, engulfed in flames, on the news report—she had decided she was just having a terrible, terrible dream. She'd wake up, and it'd be the morning of their date, which would go off without a hitch. Their relationship would go back to normal, and she wouldn't even remember any of this.

But it wasn't a nightmare that she could wake up from. And there was no forgetting the regret in the fire captain's voice when he all but announced Ned's death on television, or how she fought through the numbness to call Ned's cell phone, hoping and praying that he'd answer and tell her he'd let one of his friends borrow his car, or that his car had been stolen. He hadn't answered, though, and her call to his house went unanswered too.

"Nancy?" Bess's gentle voice pulled Nancy out of her reverie. "Can I get you anything?"

Nancy shook her head. "There's only one thing I want right now, and you can't make it happen."

Ned's parents had asked her to sit with them at his funeral that morning. She wasn't sure if it was her place, but she had agreed, not wanting to deny Mrs. Nickerson anything. It felt so damn wrong to not have Ned by her side, to see the matte ebony coffin containing the remains of the man she had loved more than life itself lowered into the cold ground. She would have done anything to bring him back. So many of the other guests at the funeral and the graveside service had been sniffling, quietly sobbing, commenting on what a tragedy, what a loss it was, for him to die so young and so soon after his graduation.

Nancy felt numb. She had to wake up soon. She just had to. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

As soon as she and Bess had walked into the Nickersons' house, Nancy had moved to the kitchen, accepting casseroles and condolences, trying to keep busy and away from the crowd of mourners. She couldn't handle their grief without her own breaking through the delicate wall she had built around it. Nothing made sense anymore.

"I'm glad Mike was able to make it," Bess said, unsure of how to respond. "Hasn't he been on some interviews out west?"

"Bess," Nancy cut off her best friend's attempt at distracting her with small talk. "Are you sure you didn't see anything that night? There was nothing suspicious or no one who seemed off to you?"

In the past two days, she'd listened to Ned's voicemail over and over until every second of it was committed to memory. She could mouth the words along with Ned, knew when Ned's tone shifted from concern about Nancy driving in the rain to fear for Bess's safety. But she still couldn't make sense of it.

Nancy knew Ned, and she knew that if he had been worried about Bess, he would've gone back into the pizza parlor himself. The fact that he hadn't meant whatever happened, whatever he saw, was bad enough for him to take off instead.

"I know that look." Bess quickly glanced over her shoulder to make sure they were alone. "You don't think it was an accident, do you?"

Nancy hadn't said the words aloud yet, but she'd taken the voicemail to Chief McGinnis. She'd asked for details about the investigation, and he shut her down. He usually let her in on cases, and given how close she was to this one, she hadn't expected anything different. She had still hoped, though. Not knowing what had happened was driving her crazy.

"When you weren't answering your cell, I called your house. Hannah said she thought you were with Ned's parents." Bess shook her head. "But you weren't, were you? What did you find?"

"Not enough," Nancy answered, sighing.

With Chief McGinnis shutting her out of the case, she'd decided to retrace Ned's steps from that day. Standing outside the pizza place, she'd been trying to map out all the areas Ned could've clearly seen something happen, when Mr. Turner came out of his tailor shop from across the street to offer condolences.

It wasn't until she turned to look at him that she noticed the security camera above his head, pointing in her direction. Mr. Turner was more than happy to let her take a look at the tape from that night, but the quality was grainy at best on a clear day, nevermind in that downpour.

She'd been able to make out Ned, though, and her heart had raced when she watched him pull out his cell phone. He was turned away, and when she followed his gaze, she saw a car speeding away. Rewinding the tape and squinting hard, she was able to make out some of the license plate.

It was only a partial, but it was more than nothing. She'd sent it to a detective in the police department who owed her a favor, hoping if she didn't say what it was for, the chief wouldn't intercept her request before the detective had a chance to run it. If she got something from the license plate, maybe she could take it back to the chief and he could get warrants for other cameras in the area.

Nothing would bring Ned back. But Nancy would be damned if she didn't do everything she possibly could to punish whoever had blown up his car and killed him so brutally. Just the thought of it, the pain he must have suffered, made tears gleam in Nancy's eyes.

"I just can't stop thinking about—"

"—Hey, babe. I was wondering where you went."

To Nancy's dismay, Marc joined them, wrapping an arm around Bess's shoulders, pulling her close. "Sorry about Ned. Such a terrible accident."

Nancy tensed at the intrusion. She could have sworn he placed too much emphasis on the word _accident_ , but Bess seemed oblivious. "We were talking about how he went missing from the pizza place. You didn't happen to see him that night, did you?"

"Can't say that I did," Marc responded easily. "I didn't realize he was there that night. I must have missed him."

Bess rolled her eyes at her boyfriend. "I told you that. Remember, he sat with me because you left me waiting?"

Not wanting to listen to what was probably going to turn into an argument, Nancy quickly excused herself. She made her way upstairs, pausing outside Ned's bedroom. She'd visited Ned's house so much that it felt like a second home, just like Bess's or George's. But she was a lot more familiar with the rooms downstairs.

Oh, she'd been in his room before, but never alone. It almost felt like a violation to enter it now, but as soon as she opened the door, she caught a faint whiff of his cologne, probably still lingering from when he was getting ready for their date. For a second, if she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend Ned was there with her.

Nancy picked up the discarded shirt on his bed before sitting down. Another one was hanging off the back of his desk chair. Rubbing her hand across the soft cotton, Nancy smiled at the thought that Ned had changed a few times before leaving for their date. Either would have been fine, but he must have felt nervous too. Tears prickled in her eyes again.

"I thought I might find you here."

Startled by the sound of Mrs. Nickerson's voice, Nancy dropped the shirt. She blushed. "I'm sorry. I just needed to get out of there, and..." She trailed off, looking around the room.

"And being in here, you almost expect him to just come walking through the door," Edith finished. She was being remarkably composed, but the skin around her eyes was pink and puffy. Nancy couldn't imagine how much grief she must be feeling, losing her only child.

"But he's not," Nancy said, with a sense of finality in her voice that scared her. She needed to find out what had happened, and anytime she found herself sinking into the black pull of her grief, she took out her case notes again and went over them. She knew she would have to process Ned's—what had happened to him at some point, but treating this like what would likely be the most important case of her life made it easier for her to deal with. It was the last thing she could ever do for him.

"You're welcome here any time," Mrs. Nickerson said, sitting down on the bed next to Nancy. "You meant the world to Ned, and I hope you know that James and I have always cared about you too." She paused for a moment. "I have something that belongs to you."

Trying to think of what she could have left behind the last time she was here, Nancy wasn't prepared for Edith to unfurl her fingers, revealing a ring box. "Mrs. Nickerson—"

"Just let me finish, please," Mrs. Nickerson cut her off. "I don't want you to feel obligated to wear it, but Ned always made it very clear that he'd be giving it to you one day. I wish more than anything that he still could. I hate that he's not going to get the future he was looking forward to—that we were all looking forward to."

She placed the ring box in Nancy's hand, holding on a moment before letting go. "You've been like a daughter to us for a long time now, and nothing is going to change that."

Nancy's eyes widened in surprise. Mrs. Nickerson had never said or done anything to make her think otherwise; neither had Mr. Nickerson, for that matter. But that had never stopped Nancy from fearing that they would've preferred their son fell in love with a girl who wouldn't keep dragging him into danger.

She dropped her gaze back down to the ring box. "I appreciate you saying that, and I..." She trailed off, taking a second to gather her thoughts before continuing again. Not finding the right words, she turned her attention to the ring box in her hand.

"He proposed once." Rubbing her thumb across the edge of the box, Nancy held back tears at the memory. "Before the case we had with Jessica Thorne. He wanted his first proposal to be to me."

The timing hadn't been right then, but Nancy couldn't help but wonder where they'd be if she had said yes. Maybe they'd be preparing for a wedding now that Ned had graduated, maybe even already married. Or their relationship might have crumbled under the strain of a commitment before they were both ready. There was one thing Nancy was pretty sure of either way, though—Ned probably wouldn't have been alone and waiting for her that night.

A sad smile crossed Mrs. Nickerson's face. "He definitely kept us on our toes during that case. James and I thought he had lost his mind."

"Me too." Remembering the pain and confusion she had felt when Ned announced his engagement to Jessica, guilt rushed over her once again. The mess with Chris meant Ned's last days were plagued with similar emotions. He hadn't deserved that.

"I'm so sorry." She couldn't hold back the tears any longer. "I should've gotten there sooner, or started looking for him right away."

Mrs. Nickerson pulled her into her arms. "Oh, sweetheart. This isn't your fault."

"I thought he was mad at me." She shook her head, pulling away from Mrs. Nickerson's comforting hug. "He probably was. I don't deserve this," she said, trying to hand the ring box back.

"Now, I can accept a lot of reasons why you won't take the ring," Mrs. Nickerson said softly. "But the one I will absolutely not accept is that you don't deserve it. You made Ned incredibly happy."

"Thank you," Nancy murmured. "But I don't think it was enough. I'll make it right, though I promise."

She drove the long way home, not wanting to pass by where Ned had—where it had happened. She'd heard from George that people were leaving flowers and other trinkets at the spot; if she saw that, she'd probably lose it.

Carson and Hannah were both home, but she didn't see either of them. Her father had postponed a business trip, and while she was grateful to have his support, the careful eye he and Hannah were keeping on her was almost suffocating.

She heard the scraping of Togo's claws against the hardwood floor before she saw him. "Have to go out?" she asked, bending down to scratch him behind his ears. "Give me one second to change."

She slid off her black heels, thinking of how they were always one of her favorite pairs because they put her at just the right height to kiss Ned without needing to stretch or pull him down, before hurrying up the stairs. Ned's smile was the first thing she saw when she entered her bedroom; she felt a magnetic pull to every picture of him. She couldn't even count the number of times she had addressed that photo at her bedside, in frustration and in sadness, in love and in anticipation.

She put the ring box down next to the framed picture, where it belonged. She'd yet to open it, afraid of how it'd feel on her left hand, where Ned always hoped it'd be one day.

When she made it back downstairs, Togo was waiting for her by the door. "You miss Ned too, don't you?" she asked him, leading him down the street. "He always sneaked you extra snacks."

Togo's ears perked at the mention of snacks, and Nancy couldn't help but chuckle. "I'll give you a couple when we get back. From Ned." She sniffled.

Her attention on Togo and on forcing down the lump of tears in her throat, she didn't hear the footsteps behind her. A hand wrapped around her arm, catching her off guard. She found herself being pulled backward, but she was able to twist herself around enough to look behind her.

The black hoodie her attacker was wearing obscured most of his face, and Nancy was only able to make out a pair of dark, narrowed eyes and the dark blonde hair that was peeking out from under it before she saw the knife in his hand.

Togo barked, momentarily distracting the man long enough for Nancy to throw her weight away from him, breaking the hold he had on her. Her attacker dropped the knife, trying to grab her again, but she crawled away as soon as she hit the ground, lashing out with powerful kicks toward his shins.

He was quick to lunge for her again, though, and this time he ignored his knife, instead choosing to wrap his hands around Nancy's throat. After feigning a struggle, she went limp, and as soon as her attacker gave her a final brutal shake and backed away, she took the opportunity to fight back.

They both went for the knife at the same time, but he got to it first. It grazed her arm just as Togo latched on to the attacker's pants leg with his teeth. The man tugged his pants free, but with his mouth now unoccupied, Togo started to bark furiously again.

"Shit," Nancy's attacker muttered when the porch light on a nearby house turned on.

"Is someone out there?"

Nancy called out for help, her voice hoarse, and her attacker turned and fled, darting into the backyard of one of the houses. She only had one thought as she sat up, watching Togo chase after the man, furious that someone would attack his mistress.

There was no chance Ned's death was an accident, and nothing was going to stop her from finding who killed him and making them pay.


	3. Chapter 3

Nancy's father shook his head as he reached for the house phone.

Nancy sighed. Togo was on the couch beside her, practically on her lap. She had found him trying to find a way around a privacy fence behind a house three doors down, still barking and growling. When she had circled the fence, she had found a pair of deep shoeprints in the soft mulch ground covering, most likely made when her attacker had vaulted over the fence. She had gone back to the house to retrieve some supplies to make a record of the shoeprints, and was already going over and over what she remembered about her attacker. Dark-blond hair, dark eyes. His chin had been on level with her eyes, so she could estimate his height.

But Hannah and her father had been alarmed by Togo's hyper scampering, and Hannah had immediately started clucking over Nancy's disheveled appearance, the livid red fingermarks on her throat, her abraded palms, the still-bleeding scrape staining her sleeve. She was sure that the guy was as far away from their house as possible now, but her father still refused to let her go back out there.

"We'll have the officer check it out when he gets here to talk to you," Carson said, holding his hand over the receiver as he waited to be connected. "Hello? This is Carson Drew."

Every minute that passed was another minute that something might be obscuring that clue: if rain began to fall, if a rodent or a dog began digging in that flowerbed… Nancy groaned softly in frustration, then coughed. Her throat really was sore.

And if those shoeprints led to whoever had killed Ned, it would be worth it. Any amount of pain would be worth it.

Hannah had carefully cleaned Nancy's palms before gently smoothing an adhesive bandage over Nancy's arm. "Would you like some lemonade? It might soothe your throat."

Nancy nodded and smiled, and Hannah headed to the kitchen as Nancy's father started nodding in agreement with whoever he was talking to at the police station. Togo whimpered and Nancy leaned down so he could give her chin a lick, stroking her tender palm over his back. "You were great out there," she told him, and he panted, his eyes bright. "Just don't get hurt, okay? You're such a good clue-finder. I love you, Togo."

Her father hung up the phone. "Okay, they'll be sending someone out immediately. Sweetheart." He sat beside her, cupping her cheeks, searching her for injuries. "I'm glad you're okay."

Nancy drew a deep breath and coughed. "Could you just—go out there and cover up the prints so they can take casts when they get here? I just don't want anything to happen. It's behind the Parkers', in the mulch. You can't miss it…"

Her father gave her a humorless smile. "If it means that much to you," he said.

"Togo will probably lead you straight there, if you let him."

As soon as her father was gone, feeling restless, Nancy went upstairs and wearily changed clothes. She glanced over at Ned's photograph again, and flashed the image a small smile. "I'm gonna find them," she swore to him. "I'm gonna find them and make them pay for what they did to you, baby."

The ring box she had left there hadn't been touched, and Nancy hesitated. If a thief broke into her house, that ring box would be a prime target, and the Drew home seemed to be the scene of a crime at least every other month. She opened the velvet box and looked down at the ring, and tears blurred in her eyes. She took a breath and coughed a couple of times, cringing at the rawness in her throat, then gasped when she touched the ring for the first time. It was beautiful, a large diamond flanked by smaller clusters of diamonds. It was tasteful and classic, and… and Ned would never have a chance to slide it onto her finger.

She heard the front door open and jumped slightly, pulling the ring out of the box. There was no way her father wouldn't notice her wearing it, and she hardly felt that she would be able to explain if he asked about it. Moving quickly, she found a slender, sturdy chain in her jewelry box and threaded the ring onto it, then fastened it around her neck and tucked the ring under her shirt.

She relaxed a little. Having the ring against her skin felt right. It was a piece of Ned's family. Maybe she would be able to wear it on her finger someday, but she just couldn't imagine it. She couldn't imagine women cooing over the ring and asking when her wedding date would be, and the bitter tears that would rise when she said there never would be a wedding. That Ned had never even been her fiancé, even for so brief a time. It just felt so colossally unfair.

Ten minutes later, Nancy was studying the image of the impressions her father had made with his cell phone camera when she heard a car door slam outside. Togo jumped down from the couch and raced toward the front door, barking loudly at the possible threat.

"Hush," Nancy's father admonished him, opening the front door. Nancy picked Togo up, quieting him as he squirmed in her arms. A uniformed officer came up the front walk, glancing to either side of Nancy's house, but Nancy was sure that her attacker was long gone.

"Miss Drew? I'm Officer Leonard. Could you come with me?"

Togo was squirming even harder, and Nancy handed him to Hannah, who chastised him gently. "Could I see your identification?" Nancy asked the officer.

She saw his eyebrows briefly, barely rise, but he reached for his identification and offered it to her. She glanced over at her father, who nodded. Apparently he didn't see anything amiss.

"Let me show you the footprints the man left," she said, taking a step toward the officer. "Actually, let me grab my purse; I want to get a photo too, just in case."

"We'll send another officer out for that. My orders are to get you to the station."

Nancy's heart skipped a beat. Maybe, now that she was more than just interested, she was undeniably _involved_ , Chief McGinnis had changed his mind and would let her in on the investigation. She had no doubt that they were doing everything they could to track down Ned's killer or killers, but she wanted to see for herself. She wanted to be there when they caught whoever was responsible. She wasn't sure what she would do, but she needed to see it for herself. Maybe that would give her closure.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. A part of her didn't want closure, because it would mean admitting Ned was truly gone.

Officer Leonard didn't exactly refuse to answer Nancy's questions on their way to the station. He just claimed ignorance, telling her that he wasn't working on that investigation. He seemed tense, though, and Nancy wondered why.

She could literally drive the route between her house and the River Heights Police Station in her sleep, and had practically done so a few times. When Officer Leonard didn't turn down the correct street, Nancy whipped a startled glance at him, but he wasn't looking at her face. Instead, he turned off his lights and coasted to a stop behind an unmarked black sedan, which was parked on the street in front of a modest motel.

Nancy's heart started beating harder. Was this a trap? Officer Leonard's identification had looked legitimate, and she seemed to remember seeing him in the station, but maybe she hadn't…

Officer Leonard turned to her. Nancy's eyes had adjusted to the dimness, and she saw a flash of something—maybe sympathy?—cross his face. "Please get into the rear passenger side of the car in front of us," he said.

Nancy opened and closed her mouth, then tried again. "What's going on?"

"The feds are in control of the case. They couldn't be seen at your house." He shrugged slightly. "Sorry for all the cloak-and-dagger stuff. They insisted on it."

 _The feds._ So whatever Ned had witnessed, it had been _that_ serious. She took a deep breath and nodded. "Thanks."

He nodded. "Have a good night, Miss Drew."

Officer Leonard waited until she had opened the rear door of the black sedan, watching just to make sure nothing happened. Nancy's skin was crawling a little; this was the perfect scenario for a trap. Once she was in the other car, her father— _no one_ would know where she was.

 _Had something like this happened to Ned?_

Nancy's stomach dropped so swiftly that she felt nauseated. "Can I see your identification?" she said quietly to the two people, presumably agents, sitting in the front seats.

The two of them immediately produced identification cards, and Nancy tried her best to scrutinize them while her heart was pounding from adrenaline. Everything _looked_ okay, but Ned wouldn't have been fooled by anything less, either.

 _Well, if this is what happened to him… maybe I'll be joining him soon._

The thought sent a chill over her, and she took a deep breath before sliding into the back seat of the car. Neither agent said anything. The driver started the ignition and the car slid away from the curb, heading away from town. Toward Chicago.

Nancy dug in her purse and pulled her cell phone out.

"No," the agent in the passenger seat said, glancing back. "Turn it off. Right now."

An unpleasant shiver went down Nancy's spine. Her instincts were practically screaming that she needed to text or otherwise contact at least one of her friends, to make sure _someone_ knew where she was. Frowning, Nancy obeyed, depressing the power button until a message asked if she intended to turn her phone off. She swiped it and sighed as the screen went black.

"Thank you." The agent said it almost as an afterthought. "Believe me, there's a lot at stake here. You need to be very careful."

"Are you saying that's what happened to Ned?" Nancy couldn't stop herself from saying it. "That he 'wasn't careful'?"

The agents exchanged a glance. "We'll talk when we reach the room," the only one who had spoken so far told her.

"The room," apparently, meant a cabin at a kind of run-down interstate motel. Tall weeds grew at the perimeter of what the owner apparently considered an appropriate radius around each cabin, and the asphalt in the parking lot was cracked and lumpy, and had clearly been patched a few times. Nancy scrutinized the area around the cabin, and spotted what she was looking for: an almost-imperceptible gleam, from eyes or plastic, letting her know at least one person was a lookout. The lights were already on in the cabin, and the driver escorted her to the door.

A woman dressed in the standard black suit and white button-down, only with a pencil skirt instead of pants, was gazing at her phone when Nancy walked in, but she immediately stood on her sensible heels and smiled. "Miss Drew. I'm Agent Karmel. Please, have a seat."

Nancy forced her own smile in response. "Are you the person who's going to tell me what's going on?"

Agent Karmel gestured for Nancy to join her at the table. "I know this has been a long day for you—"

Nancy put her purse down and crossed her arms. "You have no idea," she said, her voice flat. Ned's funeral that morning felt like it had been years ago. Then she coughed and scowled; it had ruined the impact, she was sure. "Please. Explain."

That friendly smile had dropped off Agent Karmel's face, too. "There's a price on your head," she replied. "That's what happened tonight. We know who was behind it. And it's not going to stop until everyone involved is behind bars."

Nancy's eyes widened as her mind raced. "Is—is that what happened to Ned?"

Agent Karmel nodded. "The same people who came after you tonight planted that bomb in his car."

Tears rose in Nancy's eyes again. She sniffled, trying hard to force them back down. She didn't want to look weak, not in front of this woman or anyone else. To cover it, she smoothed one of her scraped palms over her hair. "Okay," she said. "So you know what he saw. What he was calling me about."

"We're working on it. I need a thorough description of the guy who attacked you tonight, just so we can figure out exactly where he fits in. And then you're going to get some rest."

Nancy shook her head. "I've been in danger before," she pointed out. "I've gone after people who were tangled up with the mob. But if you're going after whoever killed Ned, then I'm not going to just sit back here and wait. I need to help. I need…" She glanced down, hating that those tears were still lingering in her throat. She didn't want to break down, not here.

But maybe that was just what she needed to do, to convince them how important this was.

Nancy sniffled and looked back up at Agent Karmel, letting those tears finally rise in her eyes and slide down her cheeks. "Look, he had proposed," she said, her voice cracking. "We… we were thinking about a wedding, at the end of the summer…"

She said a silent apology to Ned. He _had_ proposed. That much really was true. And she didn't doubt that Ned's parents might have been thinking about a summer wedding; she just hadn't said _which_ summer.

She saw Agent Karmel glance down at her bare left hand, in likely skepticism, and angrily jerked the necklace from beneath her shirt, showing her the ring. "We didn't want to wait anymore," she said. " _I_ couldn't wait anymore. He meant so much to me, and now…"

And the tears that she had been holding back for days began to come out in great, gasping sobs. She bent over, hiding her face. It wasn't a ploy for sympathy, not anymore. Ned was gone and Nancy was powerless to do anything else about it, not unless they let her out of this tiny room and let her go find some clues. If they had come after her, she had to be close.

She owed this to Ned. She owed him so much, but especially this.

Agent Karmel came over and rubbed Nancy's back. She wanted to shrug the other woman's hand away. If the agents had put Ned into protective custody, none of this would have happened. They would have kept him safe.

But it wasn't like their admitting failure would bring Ned back. Nothing possibly could.

"Why aren't you wearing your ring?"

Nancy thought quickly. "We hadn't had time yet to sit down with my dad and tell him about it," she said. "We didn't want him to find out just seeing the ring."

"Hmm." Agent Karmel moved her chair closer to Nancy's and sat down again, then gazed into her tear-blotched face. "We can't let you work on this. You have to understand that. We've already lost a major witness. They aren't going to be afraid to eliminate you too, especially after you turned in that partial plate number. You don't have the resources to work without help—"

"So _help me!_ " Nancy cried, wiping her wet face. "I owe him this. I… I need this."

Agent Karmel glanced at the impassive agent who was still standing near the door. She glanced down briefly and took a deep breath, then spoke quietly to Nancy. "When you say that you were planning a wedding in a few months, that you couldn't wait…"

She cast a significant glance at Nancy's midsection. Nancy blushed furiously when she realized what the agent had inferred, but at this point, she would do whatever she needed to be involved. If this lie helped, so be it.

Even though she and Ned had never… taken that step together. And now they never would.

Nancy gasped in genuine grief, covering her flaming cheeks with her palms again. There was no way the agent would know it was impossible. "We couldn't wait," Nancy confirmed without compounding the lie she had already told. She didn't care what the agent thought about that. She did love Ned, with all her heart. From the moment Ned's mother had handed her the ring…

She had realized that Ned's mother was right. If she and Ned had just been able to meet, if he hadn't witnessed whatever he had, then it would have been the next step. His graduation, then a proposal, a wedding…

But he was gone.

Agent Karmel sighed. "I need you to stay here tonight," she said. " _Promise me_ that you'll stay here tonight. Remember, they bombed Ned's car. They won't hesitate to hurt you and the people you love in case you know too much."

"What did Ned know?" Nancy asked, acting on a hunch. "What had he seen?"

"Do you _promise_ that you'll stay here? We'll have guards outside, and I'm going to take your cell phone with me. The phone's been disconnected. The _only way_ you'll stay safe—" She cast another significant glance at Nancy's midsection. "You have to stay. No going after clues. I've heard about you."

Nancy sighed heavily. "If I promise, you'll tell me?"

A hint of a smile crossed Agent Karmel's face. "You won't leave this room," she said. "The agents outside won't let you. I just don't want you to get hurt in the process. But this isn't a game. We've been working on this case for months now. Their going after you… I hope it means we're getting closer."

"Closer to what? What happened that night?"

Agent Karmel leaned forward, her amber eyes intent on Nancy's. "Ned happened to be looking into the alley beside the pizza place at just the right time to see Marcus Vincent, Leo Nunez's nephew, kill someone."

 _Leo Nunez._ Leo Nunez was involved in organized crime in Chicago; to what degree, Nancy wasn't entirely sure. She had run across him or his men at least half a dozen times when she had been investigating mysteries in Chicago. He was unspeakably brutal, unforgiving when crossed. How had she not seen, not known?

Because of course Marc hadn't advertised it. And of course Marc knew who Nancy was.

 _Such a terrible accident._

"Bess," Nancy gasped. "Oh my God—"

"Did you know? Had you told her? Will she be treating him differently?"

Nancy's mind raced, trying to process Agent Karmel's rapid-fire questions and what she knew. "Bess was just mad because Marc basically stood her up that night," she said. "Oh shit. He—his pants were like soaked up to the knee from the rain. Oh, _Bess,_ " Nancy moaned. "Oh God. That's what Ned meant!"

"The voicemail he left you?" Agent Karmel was watching Nancy closely. "So she doesn't know."

"She doesn't," Nancy confirmed, shaking her head. Her hands were trembling slightly. "Because I didn't. Oh my God. You have to…"

"We will reach out to her," Agent Karmel confirmed. "Very carefully. But the problem right now is that they're afraid _you_ know. Any contact at all will put people in danger."

"Yeah." Nancy was having no trouble pretending nausea; she legitimately felt sick. Ned hadn't had a chance, if the Nunez family came after him. And now that she knew who it was… she could avenge his death.

Very, very carefully.

Agent Karmel patted Nancy's hand. Nancy had to fight a scowl at the patronizing gesture. "Stay here. Stay safe. For both of you." She stood, giving Nancy a small smile. "Tomorrow, we're gonna take some steps to make sure you _stay_ safe."


	4. Chapter 4

It felt like years since she'd last seen Ned, last felt the comfort of his hand holding hers, last heard his voice. When Agent Karmel had confiscated her phone, she'd taken away Nancy's lifeline. Nancy was upset about not being able to contact anyone—she couldn't even think about what her father was going through right now. But it was more than just that; she'd lost photos, voicemails, text messages. If she could just hear Ned's voice or read one of the sweet messages he'd always send when he was thinking of her… it would make this new corner of hell she'd found marginally easier.

Nancy cursed as she looked at herself in the mirror. The image of her reflection was foreign to her. They'd given her colored contacts to wear, and if it wasn't for the hollowness behind them, the unfamiliar brown eyes in her reflection would've reminded her of Ned's. And _that_ thought brought a now-familiar sting of tears to her eyes.

She straightened her wig, wisps of fake dark hair falling across her face. It was a no-fuss haircut, sure not to draw attention. Shorter than she was used to. Ned wouldn't have liked it, even though he would never see it. He loved—he _had_ loved running his fingers through her hair, an action that wouldn't take very long with its new length. Even her real hair had been trimmed to make it easier to hide.

Agent Karmel had explained the necessity of the wig with a comment about hair dye not being safe for Nancy to use, and after a few seconds of blank confusion, Nancy had realized what she meant and had blushed a little. The comment had gone unnoticed by the male agent with them at the time, and Nancy had said nothing, continuing the lie without confirming it. She was starting to regret not refuting the agent's assumption that her grief and insistence on helping out was in part due to an unexpected pregnancy. At first, it had seemed like a surefire way to gain sympathy, possibly a way into the case. It had been, too, in a way—just not the way she had been hoping.

"We're going to put you into witness protection," Agent Karmel had broken the news gently. "You'll be posing as a newlywed."

Nancy probably could've talked them down to temporary protective custody, but the "baby" meant the price on her head was all the more serious to the feds. Now, not only had she lost Ned, but she was losing her family and friends too. And she'd be pretending to be someone's wife. Her husband would be a stranger instead of the only man she could've ever imagined marrying. Fake or not, it felt like she was betraying Ned all over again.

What they didn't realize was that as soon as she was out of their sight and their control, she was going to do everything she could to continue the investigation into Ned's death. She had nothing left to lose, now. They had taken everything. All she wanted now was vengeance—and after, to be with those she loved again. Ned most of all.

"All set in there?" Agent Karmel's voice carried into the dingy bathroom of the rundown motel, an hour outside Atlanta, their final destination.

"Give me a sec," Nancy answered, fidgeting with the wig again. She gave up with a scowl, hastily wiping her alien brown eyes. It wasn't like it mattered; the agents would chalk her tears up to the hormone roller-coaster she was supposed to be on, or frustration over her situation. But she still hated any appearance of weakness, and she didn't want them to see her cry, not after that momentary slip had cost her freedom.

 _No,_ she reminded herself sternly. The feds hadn't put the price on her head, and with any luck this sham marriage and new life might be a month or two, tops. Then she would have a fun story to tell her friends and father…

As though vanishing and pretending to be married to a perfect stranger was anyone's idea of fun. Just the thought of it made Nancy's stomach churn with panic. Surely she could talk them out of this. She could take care of herself…

Although it was sometimes hard to remember why, anymore. All she was living for was to find whoever had killed Ned. Nothing existed beyond that. She set her jaw and walked out of the cramped bathroom.

"Not bad," Agent Karmel mused, carefully looking Nancy up and down. "It's a shame to have to cover up that hair. I'd kill to have that color." She winced at her word choice. "Sorry, too long on the job. Murder and mayhem are like second nature now."

Nancy waved off the apology. "Explain to me again how you're going to explain my disappearance?" she asked.

"Sorry, Nancy," Agent Karmel offered her an apologetic smile. "But you know I can't tell you any more. Officer Leonard's car was pushed off the road, and he suffered a blow to the head, knocking him unconscious and allowing your assailant to grab you."

"But my dad—"

"—Oh, we know," the agent cut her off. "He's not going to stop until he figures out what happened to you. It was a safe bet that you got your won't-quit attitude from him, so we've got a plan." A plan they wouldn't share with Nancy, even though it was her life, or her supposed death, that was at stake.

"You missed a spot," Agent Karmel said, pointing to one of the bruises on Nancy's neck. She headed into the bathroom to retrieve the tube of concealer Nancy had left on the counter. The bruises from her attack were starting to heal, but they were still pretty nasty. A couple of butterfly stitches covered the cut on her arm.

"It's no use," Nancy said when the agent returned. "They're impossible to cover up."

"Maybe so, but the last thing we need is for one of your new neighbors to call the cops on your husband."

 _Her husband._ Ned's engagement ring was resting over her heart, but soon another man's ring would be on her finger. That too-familiar lump of tears rose in her throat again. "Are you sure…"

Agent Karmel compressed her lips into a thin line. Nancy's initial protest had been absolute refusal. "I'll just go into the program alone," she had insisted. "If that's what it takes. I can help…"

"And they'll be _looking_ for a woman traveling alone," Agent Karmel had pointed out. "A newlywed couple expecting a baby? That makes perfect sense. The two of you can look out for each other, alert us if anything is suspicious. With any luck, this won't be too long, all right? Just relax and let us do our jobs."

Nancy's fear was that she absolutely couldn't do that. Without something concrete to focus her energy on, she felt like she would just spiral out of control, or worse—sink into the depths of her grief. No one, not this stranger she was about to meet, would be able to tell that the light in her eyes had died, that her heart had been buried in that matte-black coffin in the Mapleton graveyard a thousand miles away.

She had only ever wanted to help people. Losing Ned as she had made her doubt everything about herself. Burying Marc and the entire Nunez family under an avalanche of life sentences wouldn't bring her confidence back, but at least it was a goal to focus on. And now they were taking even that away from her.

Nancy winced as Agent Karmel gently pressed a makeup sponge against a bruise. "Has anyone talked to Bess yet?"

"We've got an eye on her. If we make a move too soon, who knows how far the Nunez family will go to try and clean up Marcus's mess?" She backed away, casting a careful eye over Nancy. "That's as good as it's gonna get. Ready to go?"

Nancy sighed, shaking her head. "No, but does it matter?"

The car ride was silent; Nancy knew she couldn't get answers to most of the questions she wanted to ask. She'd never been comfortable being on the outside of a case, but this was so much worse. The people responsible for taking Ned away from her were out there. And there was nothing she was allowed to do but hide out of sight.

They stopped at another motel on the outskirts of Atlanta, and Nancy followed Agent Karmel to the last room at the end of the strip. She heard a dog barking in gruff bursts behind another door, the canned laugh track of a television set further down. A light was mounted above each scarred metal door, a yellow glow emanating from each discolored plastic rectangle, each bearing a halo of buzzing insects and fascinated moths. The faintly desperate nicotine-tinged air of the place kept Nancy's hands stiff by her sides, and the metallic _thunk_ of a soda can falling into a nearby vending machine's dispenser made her jump for the heartbeat before she recognized the sound. The humidity felt clammy on her skin, as though it was already wearing away her so carefully applied concealer.

She didn't care if she looked like shit when she met this guy, she realized. Their relationship would be a business arrangement, nothing more. And there was nothing she wanted less than to be the object of someone else's affections.

Under normal circumstances, Nancy would've paid close attention to the agent's quick knocks against the door, looking for a pattern. Instead, she forced herself to take deep breaths. She wanted to run. She needed to run.

When the door opened, Agent Karmel ushered Nancy in first, introducing her to the agent in the room. "You're being paired with Agent Parks's asset."

"He'll be out in a minute," Parks said, raking a hand through his salt and pepper hair. The agent's shirt was rumpled, doubtless from the relentlessly humid summer air, and two ballpoint pens were hooked in his breast pocket. He had the mildly distracted air of a man who had gone too long since his last cigarette.

It was easier to focus on him than on what was about to happen, and Nancy tightened her hands into fists, setting her jaw. She had been through worse than this, much worse—though she just couldn't really imagine what that might be. The long, terrible nightmare of Ned's death just seemed to stretch to infinity, finding new ways to torture her while never touching the endless grief of her loss. That it would happen here, in a decrepit motel room, the window air conditioning unit fruitlessly chugging against the muggy atmosphere, the perpetual hush of interstate traffic behind them—it was nearly as bleak as she could imagine.

The bathroom door opened, and Nancy prepared herself as a tall man entered the room, his head ducked down. She gasped when he looked up and his eyes locked to hers.

His hair was lighter, his skin more tan, reminding her of summers spent at his family's cabin at Fox Lake, when they'd spend all day in the sun. To an untrained eye, it'd take a second, or maybe even third, glance to recognize who he really was. But she'd spent years looking into those eyes, kissing those lips, and tracing her fingers across those cheeks.

He was dead. He was _dead._ Oh God, she had thought she could sink no lower, but to have this mirage snatched away from her was going to absolutely destroy her heart. It was all she had ever wanted, all she had wanted since the camera crew had panned back to reveal the burned-out shell of his car and she had recognized his license plate.

She blinked again, but those features she knew and loved so well didn't dissolve into someone else's. _She wasn't seeing things._

Ned was still alive. Impossibly, miraculously still alive.

"Ned," she cried out, tears pooling in her eyes. She was afraid to take a step forward, afraid she would crumple to her knees—and afraid _not_ to touch him, to confirm for herself that he was truly real, breathing and live and whole.

"You shouldn't be here." He turned to the agents. "What is she doing here?"

At his hardened tone, Nancy startled, her old fear crashing over her—that he was still angry at her for missing their date, for giving up on them. She couldn't bear that. She would do anything to show him that she loved him. If she lost him now... "Wha- what?"

He shook his head. "You have to go back. Please." His voice softened. "You'd be safer back home. This was supposed to keep you safe."

She shook her head and reached out for him, and he met her halfway, pulling her into his arms. She couldn't help it; she cried out again when they touched, when she felt the solid warm reality of him against her. "I can't believe you're alive," she said, her shaking voice further muffled by his shirt. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"I didn't want to go," he replied, rubbing his hand across her back as she clung to him. "God, I didn't want to do this. But if I stayed, I would've made everyone I care about a target. They want me dead, which is why you're not safe here."

"I thought you knew me better than that, Nickerson," she teased, easing out of his hold slightly to look him in the eye, though her own were still swimming. "I knew it wasn't an accident."

"I'm sorry." He wiped away her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "I wanted you to know the truth. I didn't want you to have to go through mourning me. I didn't want anyone to, but especially not you and my parents." He broke eye contact. "My mom. How is she?"

Nancy wanted to reassure him, but she couldn't lie. "Are you okay?" she asked instead.

She could tell the moment he noticed the bruising on her neck. She felt him tense under her touch.

"Am _I_ okay?" he repeated. "Shit. What happened to _you_?" He gently tilted her chin up to get a better look at her neck, and she saw his jaw tighten in anger.

"It's not as bad as it looks," she downplayed her injuries. "I had a little run-in with someone who wanted me to stop searching for answers."

Sensing his guilt, she shook her head. "Stop it. It's not your fault. And if we're keeping score, I've gotten you into a _lot_ more bad situations than you've gotten me into."

She reached out and held her hand over his chest, feeling for his steady heartbeat. "This is real?" she asked softly, in amazement. "I didn't—I didn't know how I was going to be able to live without you."

"I didn't know how I would either." He pressed his lips against her forehead.

Agent Karmel coughed, getting their attention. They turned to look at her, but neither was willing to let go of the other.

"Sorry, but we've got business to take care of. The original plan was to keep you two lovebirds away from each other," she said. "It'd be easier to hide you both if you weren't together. But seeing as you're expecting…" she trailed off.

Ned's gaze immediately whipped to Nancy, his eyes widening in shock, but at the almost indiscernible shake of her head, he didn't say anything.

Agent Parks picked up a manila folder from the bedside table, handing it to Ned. "Here's everything you need for your new identities. You need to start learning your cover stories."

"Congratulations," Agent Karmel said. "I now pronounce you husband and wife."


	5. Chapter 5

"Pregnant?"

It was the first time they had been alone tonight, once given the agents' blessing and directed to their new house. Ned was seated behind the wheel of the car the feds had provided for them, a five-year-old sedan of an indeterminate sandy color, a domestic model that was sure to blend in. Cardboard liquor boxes loosely re-sealed with strips of packing tape were stacked in the backseat. After all, they were moving in. She idly wondered what they would find inside, but given everything else, she was sure Karmel and Parks had been thorough.

And they had given Ned back to her.

Every time she glanced at him, Nancy felt a visceral punch of happiness. As much as she had tried to make herself believe that his death was just a cruel joke or a terrible nightmare, the burned-out car had been too convincing. His silence had been too convincing. She had known that Ned would never willingly put his friends and family through the horror of thinking him dead, and she was right; she just hadn't expected to see him again like this.

It was also impossible for her to think of anything else for long. The past forty-eight hours had been a blur of decisions, most of which had been out of her hands. She was exhausted and overjoyed and on the point of tears.

She drew a deep breath. "I was attacked, and the feds brought me in to talk to me. They basically told me that I had to stop looking into your—your death, that I'd already found out too much and the Nunez family had put a price on my head as a result. I… I just couldn't let it go. That was all I had. You were gone and I could find whoever was behind your murder, and that was something to focus on. To keep me from just… falling apart." Her eyes were shining when she looked up at him.

Ned's handsome face was lined with sympathy. He reached for her hand and she laced her fingers between his, her heart jolting at the contact.

"I thought that if I convinced them of how important you were to me, they'd understand, and I… told them that we'd been thinking about getting married soon. That we couldn't wait. And then Karmel just assumed that I meant I was pregnant, and… I didn't correct her. I was hoping it would help." She snorted. "And it did. Just not quite the way I wanted at the time, but…" A tear tracked down her cheek as she looked into Ned's eyes. "I would have given anything to see you again," she whispered.

He gave her a very small smile. "Do you know how many times they had to stop me from trying to contact you?" he asked. "I begged them to give you a message, to tell my parents that it was all a sham, anything, but they completely refused. They needed it to look real."

"Trust me, it did." Nancy shuddered, and Ned gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "And Marc was at the funeral, too. I had no idea then… I mean, I've never liked the guy…"

"You'd like him even less, if you'd seen him the way I did that night." Ned shook his head. "So the pregnancy was just a misunderstanding."

" _Is,_ " she corrected him. "They still think I am. So we need to… play along."

Ned's eyebrows rose. "Like…" He made a vague gesture.

Nancy blushed. "No, I mean… in a month or so, if they ask about it, I can just say it must have been a false positive or something." She couldn't meet Ned's eyes.

He let out a long, relieved breath. "I… I didn't think…" He trailed off, and Nancy reached up to comb her fingers nervously through her hair before remembering she was wearing a wig, and not very comfortably.

"I can't blame you if you _did_ think," she replied softly. "After everything. I was so upset that I didn't make it to the restaurant in time to see you. I _knew_ you were mad at me for missing our date, but the rain, and the interview at the station took longer than I thought…"

Ned stroked his thumb against the base of her own, up and down, in a comforting gesture. "I was worried about you," he replied, just as quietly. "Signal in the restaurant was shit and that's why I went outside. So if you want to blame anyone, blame my cell carrier for this mess we're in. And my curiosity."

Nancy finally turned to him again and met his eyes, giving him a small smile. "I'm sorry. About everything. I never thought…"

She reached up and cupped his jaw, and almost sobbed at the warmth she saw in his eyes as he responded to her touch. He wasn't pushing her away, blaming her for all this, even though he could have. If she hadn't been late, he would never have seen what he did…

And Bess would have been on a date with Marc immediately after, unaware that he had just killed someone, unaware of how dangerous he was. Nancy couldn't help hoping that Marc would just leave Bess alone, now that it was obvious she didn't know anything, and both people who did had been dealt with, however temporarily.

Then Ned gave her a crooked smile. "We'd better get on the road, or I'll pass out right here," he told her. "All these shitty motel mattresses have made my back sore."

As soon as he had turned the key in the ignition and pointed the car in the right direction, following the pre-programmed directions to their new life, he reached for Nancy's hand again, and she melted a little as she laced her fingers through his again. "How come I'm stuck with this stupid wig and annoying contacts, and you're…" She gestured vaguely.

Ned turned one of his thousand-watt grins on her. "Because I _blend_ ," he told her. "Can't get more common than brown hair and brown eyes. _You_ , on the other hand, are pretty unforgettable, Nancy Drew."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "You're so wrong," she said. "You stick out in any crowd. You're so damn handsome."

"Guess we'll have to find a way to tone it down, then. What do you think, glasses?"

She grinned at the thought. Their easy banter was loosening a tight knot that had been heavy in her gut for days now. She had thought she would just live with it for the rest of her life, the shadow of her loss. "You'll make a very handsome Clark Kent."

"You know what you look like?" he asked, glancing over at her. "I mean, other than definitely not yourself. Remember when you went undercover as Brenda Carlton for a while?"

"How could I forget," Nancy said with a sigh. She hadn't been able to appear in public as herself during that whole debacle, either. But at least she had been able to see an end; at least she had been able to go home to her family and friends. She sniffled, another wave of tears rising in her already-bloodshot eyes. Her contacts were going to be entirely useless soon.

"Hey," Ned said softly. "Look, I know this sucks. I know. And I had absolutely no idea how I was going to get through it, until you walked in. I've missed everyone so much, but especially you, sweetheart."

"I wish that I'd only missed you. That I hadn't had to go through watching your funeral." She sniffled again. "Everything has felt like a nightmare, and now it feels like I'm dreaming."

He gave her another smile, squeezing her hand. "So let's go over our cover identities, Nan. Or I guess I should say Mrs. Nelson."

Nancy used her free hand to fish out the identifying documents the feds had left with them. " _Richard Nelson_. Ricky Nelson, really?"

Ned laughed, and she could hear the fine thread of relief in it, tension that had been dammed up far too long. "I didn't even realize that," he commented. "Guess Nelson is a pretty common last name for where we're going. And I definitely don't want to go by 'Dick.'"

"Well, you aren't a nineteen-fifties suburban dad rocking a golf shirt," Nancy commented absently, "so I don't blame you. And… Diana. Hmm."

"It has a nice ring to it. Diana Nelson."

"And it's close to Nickerson." Nancy blushed again, then stared straight ahead, almost afraid to look over at Ned. They hadn't really talked about the most worrying part of their cover identity. Pretending to be married.

Oh, the feds wouldn't have imagined anything could be amiss, not if she and Ned were already _planning on being married soon,_ if they had dreamed about a wedding day… but that had been taken entirely out of their hands. She had shared Ned's bed at Omega Chi a few times, but their time together had been the very definition of innocent and chaste.

"Yeah," Ned murmured. He cleared his throat. "So… I know… you didn't want to be married for a while. And it's not like this is real. We'll… be roommates."

Nancy's face was flaming red when she forced herself to look over at him, glad that his gaze was still locked to the road ahead. "I don't think it'll be that easy," she murmured. "I mean, when we're out we'll just—be a couple…" How did married people act, though? At the grocery store, at the movies? Affectionate? "Although maybe we should practice that."

"Being a couple?" He did glance over at her, and his lips parted slightly when he saw how self-conscious she clearly was. "Practicing being married?"

"Yeah." She licked her lips. "I don't really know how to… _act_ married."

"Then maybe we can practice that tomorrow." He coughed, and she realized that he was a little flushed, too.

"But, when we're at home… given everything else… I think it would be obvious if we were sleeping in separate bedrooms, or on the couch, or all that. So…"

When she had imagined a sham marriage with a fed-assigned husband, sharing a bed with him had _definitely_ not been a part of her plan, not at all. So why did it suddenly seem so incredibly important that she and Ned do everything they could to make their marriage appear real?

Her heart was pounding as she considered, registering Ned's silence as a tacit denial… but he wasn't, yet. He wasn't saying no.

Then he stroked his thumb against the side of her hand again. "When they told me I'd be posing as someone's husband, I told them I absolutely wouldn't. I'm glad it's you; I'm glad I won't be going out of my mind for the next few months, until they can finally put these assholes away. But… maybe this is old-fashioned, maybe I'll change my mind in the morning, but… baby, you know I…" He swallowed hard, and she saw the shadow of his adam's apple bob. "You know I want to be with you, but… I just don't want it to be like this. I don't want it to be a lie."

She nodded. "I feel the same way," she said. "But… I guess I feel like they've given me a chance to prove to you that I really do want to be with you."

He raised his eyebrows. "It's not like we have much choice," he murmured.

"Yeah, but… they have no control over what we do when we're home, when we're alone. Although, if the house is bugged…"

Ned shrugged. "The last week has been a nightmare," he said. "And I finally decided that if we were bugged, I was already dead; it meant they had already found me. So when we're home, let's just… be ourselves. When we're in public, we're Richard and Diana; as soon as we cross that threshold, we're Nancy and Ned again. I think I really _will_ lose my mind otherwise."

Nancy released a long breath. "Yeah," she murmured. She would follow his lead. And if their time together meant rebuilding their closeness, bonding and enjoying being together, she would gladly take it.

She broke the lull in their conversation by reaching back into the envelope. "Oh," she murmured. Two rings, sterling-silver wedding bands, clinked against each other in a zippered plastic bag.

Ned glanced over. "Guess the government wasn't gonna spring for a fake engagement ring," he commented, his voice light.

Nancy shook her head and had to work to find her own voice. "They didn't have to," she replied, and reached under the collar of her shirt to find the necklace. She could tell when Ned saw and recognized it; the car began to drift into the next lane, then jerked back as he overcorrected.

"What? How…"

Nancy sniffled. "Your mom," she told him. "The day of your—funeral. She told me this was always going to be mine, and gave it to me. I didn't want to take it, but she insisted. And I've worn it ever since. It was a piece of you… of what she said we would have had."

"We still will," he told her. Then he realized what he was saying and glanced over at her. "I mean, if you want that. If you ever have," he whispered at the end.

Nancy's heart burned. That last proposal, his only proposal to her, had left his ego a little bruised, no matter what he had told her. She had told him that she wasn't ready, but she hadn't said she ever would be.

"I do," she told him, and stroked her thumb over his own hand. "We can think of this as a trial run. And once we're back home…"

His tentative smile turned into a grin that lit his eyes. "Really?"

She nodded. "Ned, I get it. It's time to take the next step, and I'm ready to do that. No more putting it off." Then she snickered. "I mean, other than this massive detour we're on."

Ned released a bitter laugh. "Yeah, it does feel like that." Then he glanced at her again. "She must be so upset," he murmured. "She must believe it, if she gave you the ring. Oh my God."

He released her hand to run his fingers through his hair, and Nancy reached over to rub his shoulder. "It won't be for so long," she reassured him. "I mean, you're an eyewitness. How hard could it be to put that case together?"

Ned shot her a quick look. "They had me record my testimony, a deposition," he told her. "They told me it was just standard procedure, but I'm not stupid. It was in case Marc or his guys found me for real before the case went to trial." He shook his head. "And what better bait could they possibly offer these guys, than to have us together?"

Nancy pressed her lips together, silently considering, but she had to agree. The Nunez family hadn't exactly been angels before the murder, and most of them were out roaming the streets of Chicago. If they could eliminate the one person who could connect them to a murder, she didn't doubt that they would.

Ned had been given far more time to start memorizing his new cover identity, so Nancy thoroughly reviewed her file, murmuring vital statistics. She would need to be able to reel off Diana's birthdate without hesitation, definitely.

The next document she pulled out of the envelope was their fake wedding certificate. She groaned as she read the date.

"What?"

"January sixth. The Nelsons had a winter wedding. Looks like it was in Florida."

"Not your idea of a good time?"

"Brr. No." She shook her head, shuffling through the rest of the papers. "And… there's nothing in here about the ceremony or anything. I guess they didn't have enough time."

"Why would it matter?"

Nancy turned a shocked gaze on him. "That's the _first thing_ people will ask about when they find out we're newlyweds," she told him. "The wedding. What were our colors? Of course we were married on the beach, probably at sunset. Where did we go on our honeymoon?"

Ned chuckled. "I thought you said you didn't know how to play married."

"I don't. But I've seen Bess in action. There's no detail about a wedding that doesn't fascinate her."

Ned glanced over at her. "So, does that mean our lack of wedding pictures will be a problem?"

"Shit!" Nancy cast a despairing glance behind her, wondering if the feds had had enough time to convincingly Photoshop something appropriate. Then she shook her head. "I mean, yeah, if we were gonna be here a while. But I can just say the photographer hasn't sent our album yet. Something like that." She took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm down.

Ned reached for her hand again and gave it a squeeze. "It's gonna be okay," he murmured. "How many times have we gone undercover? This is just a longer version of that. We can do this."

She nodded, although her heart skipped a beat. The stakes had been high before, but they had never felt quite this high. Ned's burned-out car bore testimony to that.

They were both tired of fast-food burgers, chicken nuggets, and fries, so after a quick search on her brand-new cell phone, Nancy found a nicer place with a drive-thru that offered crisp salads and heartier fare. Ten minutes later, Ned negotiated a turn into a subdivision, and Nancy quietly read the brass letters affixed to the brick sign they passed. _Egret Landing._ Their new home, for at least a little while. A large magnolia tree was in bloom at the edge of the subdivision, creamy white petals blown wide, nestled between glossy green leaves.

The houses were nice, nicer than she had expected given the crappy motels they had stayed in during the trip down. Then again, the feds were absolutely going to save money where they could. Ned pulled into a cul-de-sac and slowed in front of a light-colored ranch-style home with a modest pie-wedge of lawn in front and a concrete driveway leading to a double carport. A dark pickup sporting a Georgia license plate was already parked under the shelter. Tall streetlamps glowed through the mist, and Nancy gasped when she saw a few minuscule flashes in the front yard. "Fireflies," she whispered.

"Lightnin' bugs," Ned corrected her with an affected Southern drawl, and Nancy couldn't help chuckling. A motion-detecting light snapped on, bathing the driveway in harsh white light as they passed into the carport, parking near the side entrance. "And, since we're here…"

He reached for the small plastic bag holding their costume wedding bands, and Nancy's heart skipped a beat as she slid the engagement ring off the necklace and held it in her palm. Ned turned to look at her, and he stilled when he saw the ring.

That ring wasn't a lie, or any part of a lie. Maybe he hadn't offered it to her during his proposal, but he had known she wasn't going to accept it. Now, she already had. Nancy wondered if he felt a little jealous, knowing that he hadn't been the one to give it to her.

And she didn't want to spoil the wearing of it, like this, but she was supposed to be a newlywed, and part of that would be showing off her engagement ring.

Ned swallowed, then picked up the more slender band. "This goes on first, right?"

She nodded, and finally managed to find her voice. "Yeah."

He slid the wedding band onto her left ring finger, then took the diamond ring and slid that on too. When it was touching her knuckle he glanced up and met her eyes, and Nancy couldn't breathe.

 _It's a lie, it's a lie,_ she reminded herself. She and Ned would do this right, not this hasty sham, once the circumstances allowed it. But some sentimental part of her, already exhausted and emotional from the rest of the day, couldn't help seeing it as true on some level. She could have sworn she had cried all her tears, but her vision began to blur with them anyway.

"Mrs. Nelson," he murmured.

She took his larger band and slid it onto his waiting finger, then glanced up at him, to see a rising flush in his cheeks too. "Mr. Nelson," she breathed. Their gazes held for a long moment, and Nancy couldn't put a name to the tension she was feeling. It had been a long time, but this definitely felt like more. She had never spent the night alone with Ned like this, and once they were inside, no one would interrupt them… no one would know.

Or, more accurately, everyone would _assume_. They were supposed to be married, after all.

Ned broke the tension, clearing his throat and sliding the keys out of the ignition. Nancy glanced away, feeling oddly disappointed. What had she expected, some mockery of a "you may now kiss the bride"?

Nancy carried their bags of takeout up the brick steps leading to the side entrance. Ned located the likely house key on the keyring and slotted it into the door, muttering triumphantly when the bolt clicked back. Nancy heard an insistent chirping begin as soon as the door was open, and Ned hastily made his way through the maze of cardboard boxes and furniture, locating the source, a glowing panel near the front door. He studied the panel for a few seconds, then punched in a code he had already memorized. He paused for a heartbeat before pressing the star key, and the chirping subsided.

"Okay—"

Nancy had tentatively placed the toe of her sneaker on the kitchen floor, but she released a startled cry as Ned returned to her, reached down and gathered her into his arms, one supporting her back, the other under her knees. "N—What?"

"Carrying you over the threshold," he told her with a small smile. He was clearly exhausted, but his brown eyes were gleaming. "Welcome home, Mrs. Nelson."

Nancy blushed as she realized how close she had come to saying his actual name where she had the slightest chance of being overheard. "Welcome home, Mr. Nelson."

She kept fidgeting with the unfamiliar rings as she prowled through the house, listening carefully. She found nothing unexpected, and was quietly thankful. The side door they had entered through opened into the kitchen and eating area, then the main living room area and foyer. A door beside the gas logs and television niche most likely led into the backyard, but she didn't bother looking, not in the darkness. Cardboard boxes were stacked haphazardly in each room, bearing scrawled labels: _kitchen, office._ The place was apparently already furnished, for which she was thankful; she had already carefully counted the cash the feds had provided to help them start their new lives, and it wasn't going to cover a house full of furniture along with everything else, that was for sure. Down the hall to the left of the front door, she located two small bedrooms, a shallow laundry niche with a washer and dryer taking up all the space, and a small, full bathroom before opening the last door on the hall. The master bedroom was of a modest size, and she took in the walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom with wide, solemn eyes, unable to treat it like some unfamiliar vacation home.

This was real. This was fucking real, and tears began to prick in her eyes again as she turned off the bathroom light. Her footsteps echoed in the almost-bare space; no toiletries were scattered across the double vanity, and no floor mats absorbed sound on the neat linoleum. She could hardly bear to see her own strange reflection in the huge mirror over the twin sinks.

With a muffled grunt of anticipation, she dug through her purse and found the contact lens case and cleaning solution Karmel had provided as part of her survival kit. She washed her hands, scrubbing hard, and took out the gritty, dry contact lenses, blinking rapidly and sighing in relief. The wig came off next, and Nancy shook out her natural reddish-gold hair, combing her fingers through it. At least she looked more like herself now, even if almost everything else was different.

"I—" Ned's footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor of the hall, and she heard him suck in a breath as he stopped in the doorway of what would be their bedroom. "Oh."

She turned toward him, releasing her hair, letting it fall to brush against her shoulders. "Sorry. I just couldn't bear it anymore."

He nodded slowly, studying her again, as though seeing her all over again for the first time. "There you are," he whispered. "My Nancy."

Her heart gave one hard beat, hearing him say her name so tenderly, and she crossed the room to him in rapid strides to find his arms already open for her. He pulled her up and off her feet, holding her tight to him, and she buried her face against his neck, clinging to him.

They didn't move, didn't speak, for a long time, just held each other in the deafening stillness of that unfamiliar house. He was all that was truly hers for a thousand miles, and she wasn't sure she would ever be able to let him go.

Then he sighed and lowered her to her feet again, brushing a kiss against her neck. She stifled a whimper when his lips barely touched a bruise.

Ned moved back, his brows lowered. "I'll want to see what's under that makeup," he told her, then gently kissed her lips. "Come on. Let's eat."

She managed to smile as he took her hand and led her down the hall to the kitchen. "That's one thing I can always count on," she commented. "That bottomless appetite of yours."

Ned made sure all the blinds were closed and that no one could see in before he and Nancy sat down at the small kitchen table for their meal. The kitchen was nice, though the countertops were linoleum, not granite or quartz, and the eating area boasted wallpaper with an overblown floral pattern that looked about ten years out of date. The living room was just beside the eating area, and that room was carpeted; at least the carpet looked fairly new, not worn and stained by years of rental traffic. The sectional sofa was a bit too large for the space, but at least the synthetic leather looked like it would be easy to clean. The seating faced a flat-screen TV positioned in the wall niche above the fireplace that had been cut deep, to hold a much older television set. She didn't see a cable box, though, or any evidence that internet was available.

Other than that outdated wallpaper, the rest of the house seemed to be decorated in neutrals: a warm sand beige, brown, the medium-brown pine of the hardwoods. Nancy's father's house would dwarf it; so would Ned's parents' house.

 _It's not for long,_ she reminded herself, spearing another bite of lettuce, tomato, and cucumber. But as much as she tried to see it as an adventure, she just couldn't. Not yet, and maybe not ever.

"What do you want to do tomorrow?" Ned asked, before taking another bite of his grilled roast beef sandwich.

"Well, grocery shopping, definitely," she said. "And we can put the house in order. We'll need to open a bank account."

"And have someone install internet service."

"And buy you some glasses." Ned quirked an eyebrow at her. "What? It's only fair, if I have to walk around wearing an itchy wig all day."

"I am sorry, Nan. You look much more beautiful like this." He reached over and ran his fingertips over the newly-cut edge of her hair, and she felt the warmth of his skin radiating against her jaw. "I know it's selfish, but… I'm kind of glad that when you go out, no one will see you like this. Just when you're here with me."

She tilted her head, holding his gaze, resting her fork at the edge of her plate. "You're the only man for me," she murmured. "It would be true whether we were sitting here or in your car—" She almost choked, remembering. "Your car at the edge of Flanders Field. I'm so sorry I hurt you. It… it was one-sided, and I…"

Ned's hand covered hers, and her quickened heartbeat stole her breath. "It's done," he murmured. "And I believe you. You don't have to apologize anymore. The night of our date, all I was concerned about was you being safe. Okay? I hate that—that it was the last message you'd heard from me. I should have told you that I loved you."

Nancy choked back a sob, glancing down at her plate, sniffling and trying to keep the tears from welling up again. "I love you so much," she whispered.

After dinner, Nancy wanted to start unpacking, but she found that she had almost no energy. She dragged herself to the master bath and pulled out her toiletries kit, a cheap new toothbrush and a small tube of toothpaste, a miniature bottle of face wash. She was very gentle when she took off her makeup, but she still winced at any pressure against the still-tender, healing skin. The bruises looked terrible, and she fought the ridiculous urge to loosely wrap something around her neck so Ned wouldn't see them.

Ned was in their bedroom, and she had to smile when she saw what he was doing, making up what had been a bare mattress. Someone had had the foresight to supply them with bed linens, and Nancy helped him finish, tucking in the flat sheet and straightening it, tugging the comforter up and over the sheet. Ned had adjusted the thermostat as soon as they had walked in, but the house was still warm enough to leave a hint of perspiration at her hairline, to make the oversized t-shirt she had changed into as pajamas cling faintly to her shoulder blades. Maybe as a joke, maybe as a nice gesture, someone had included a couple of short lace-trimmed satin slips in her, in _Diana's_ suitcase. Nancy had blushed when she had seen them, recognized them for what they were. Lingerie meant to help her seduce her cover husband.

She saw Ned's frown when he caught sight of the unconcealed bruises, and after they'd made up the bed, he crossed to her, very gently taking her chin in his hand and moving her so he could see them better. His face tightened, and he brushed his fingertips very gently over unbruised skin, down to her shoulder, in a caress that left her tingling, her nipples tightening to stiff peaks. She blushed, but returned his apologetic smile.

"I hate to see you hurt," he whispered.

"I know." She stood on her tiptoes and pressed a quick, soft kiss against his jaw, relieved that the sudden tingling tension she had felt was dissipating. That was definitely the last thing either of them needed tonight. "I'll be good as new soon."

Ned took his turn in the bathroom while Nancy struggled through her exhaustion, plugging in their cell phones, clearing a wider path through the boxes and luggage stacked in the bedroom. She started to set her alarm, then shrugged. There didn't seem to be much point. After so much haste and anxiety, at last they could try for eight hours of sleep.

The bed was a decent size, but not enormous. She and Ned wouldn't exactly be on top of each other, but they couldn't leave an expanse between them, either. Nancy settled on the side of the bed furthest from the door, and left the lamp on beside her so Ned could see.

No books, either. When she couldn't sleep, when she was puzzling through clues or just restless, she read until her exhaustion was complete. Tonight, she had been sure she would just pass out immediately… but nothing was familiar, and Ned's theory kept whispering in her ears. Together, they might prove a target too tempting for Marc's family to resist.

Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson were already dead. And no one would mourn Richard and Diana Nelson.

Ned opened the bathroom door and turned off the light. He was dressed in gray boxers and a short-sleeved white undershirt, his sun-lightened hair rumpled. He paused for a moment in the doorway, just gazing at her, and Nancy saw herself through his eyes with a little shiver: waiting in bed for him, her hair loose, bathed in soft golden light.

"Are you sure you don't want me to go sleep on the couch?" His voice was quiet, but deep.

In answer, Nancy patted the bed beside her. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable," she told him. "But… at least for tonight, please…"

He nodded once, and she saw him clench and release his fist at his side. "Uh—I'm gonna set the alarm. Don't forget to disarm it before you walk down the hall into the living room, okay? Or you'll set off the motion sensor. That's what they told me."

Nancy nodded, snuggling back under the covers as she heard him pad down the hallway and punch in a code. A soft, rhythmic chirping indicated the countdown before it armed as Ned walked back and gently closed the door behind him.

"Do you want to put a pillow between us?"

"No," she murmured, gazing at his face. "I trust you."

He gave her a small smile. "I just don't know if _I_ trust me," he murmured, sliding beneath the covers.

She returned his smile. "We're married," she said lightly.

He drew a long, deep breath, then let it out with an explosive exhale. "We aren't," he replied. "Or tonight would be _very_ , very different. And it will be." His brow furrowed as he turned onto his side and reached up to cup her cheek. "This feels like one of those stories, where something grants wishes, but it's always in the worst possible way. To have you right here and know that I can't touch you…"

Nancy searched Ned's eyes. When she and Ned had shared a bed before, she had been almost painfully aware of his presence, his warmth, and the delicious hum that seemed to provoke in her.

"Can you hold me?" she whispered. "That's all. I…"

But she couldn't say it. She knew she would just dissolve into incoherent sobs. And it wasn't as though he didn't understand—but at least he had known the whole time that she was still alive. At least the bottom hadn't dropped out of his entire world.

He reached for her and they moved together toward the middle of the bed. As soon as she was wrapped in his arms, tears welled up in her eyes, and she buried her face against his chest. The trembling, the ache, that she had dammed up for so long surfaced with a terrible wrench in her chest, and she muffled her sobs against his shirt.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay. This is hard. It's so damn hard. But we'll figure it out, honey."

He smelled the same. Underneath the unfamiliar soap and laundry detergent, the scent of his skin was the same. For some reason, that made her cry harder.

She was afraid to sleep. She wanted to open her eyes and find herself back in her father's house—but if that meant that the funeral would be real, that Ned would be lost to her again, she couldn't bear it.

"I love you," Ned whispered.

"I love you," she whispered in reply, her voice trembling as she nestled even closer to him, wishing she could just wrap herself in him, safe and warm and whole.


	6. Chapter 6

Ned couldn't count the number of times he had woken up with this particular fantasy in mind. His girlfriend in bed beside him, scantily clad—her thin, oversized t-shirt and panties certainly fit the bill, especially with the hem hiked up to bare a strip of skin at her belly button—and drowsy, their bodies nestled together. What happened after that was a well-worn track in his thoughts, though he had never, ever been in a situation to act on it.

Ned was spooned up behind Nancy, and her firm bottom was against his hips.

He released a silent breath, very slowly easing away from her. He would be mortified if she woke and realized that he had responded that way to their closeness. Even though it had been completely, totally unintended on his part.

He walked stiffly to the bathroom, making very sure not to look back at her; sleeping beside her like they were was already a supreme test of his weakening will. Once the tension had lifted, he splashed cold water on his face and studied his reflection.

Nancy had said that she wanted to be his wife, and not just like this, not as a cover. He had resigned himself to not seeing her for months, and he wished that he'd been able to send her back to River Heights and possible safety—but if they'd put a price on her head too, she wouldn't be safe there anyway. And at least they were together.

As much as he wanted her to be safe, he was selfish. The feds wouldn't protect Nancy the way Ned would; there was no way they could. When he had thought that only he would be living here, the security system had seemed like an afterthought. Now she was with him, and they would keep the house locked up tight, the system armed.

For the past few days, it had been incredibly hard to care about anything. The feds saw him as a witness, and that was all. His pleading, his protests, had won him nothing. He had a feeling that, if not for Nancy's lie-by-omission about a pregnancy, even now they would be thousands of miles apart, with Nancy still believing him dead, and Ned… knowing nothing about her. The feds had been firm about that. The lives they left behind were absolutely off-limits. A slip was the best way for the Nunezes to find them.

And Bess… sweet, innocent Bess had just fallen for the absolutely wrong guy.

Ned heard the bedroom door open, and realized he had probably taken too long. He needed a shower, but he hadn't had time to find any soap or shampoo; he wasn't even sure if the feds had packed any. He _did_ know where he had another set of clean clothes in the complete disarray of their new house, so he walked back into the bedroom to find them. The bed was empty, as he had expected, and if he didn't smell like old sweat and stale grease, he would have been tempted to climb back under the covers—and cajole Nancy to join him again.

 _Not real. Not real,_ Ned reminded himself. Then he felt that unfamiliar band on his left ring finger and looked down. That certainly looked real enough.

But there were no vows behind it, no promises of anything, fidelity or love. This was just the most convenient way to keep them together and undercover. That was all.

Ned hissed in triumph when he finally located a bar of soap, then shaving cream and a pack of disposable razors. He would find an affordable electric one _today_ , that was for damn sure. After days of making do with whatever the feds provided, he was sick of living without the basic things he had taken for granted.

The water heated up fast enough, and he ducked under the spray, finger-combing it through his hair. At least the shower head had some decent pressure behind it. Most of the shitty motels they had frequented on this hellish trip had provided a trickle of lukewarm water, or a firehose blast that hit Ned, at its highest, directly between his shoulder blades.

After his shower, Ned heard the alarm system chirping insistently, and his eyes widened. Had they been found so quickly? _Where was Nancy?_ Still dripping wet, he grabbed the first towel that came to hand, a small one that wouldn't even wrap fully around his hips, and clapped it over his groin before opening the bathroom door.

"Shit!" Nancy was hissing as she darted through their bedroom, barely avoiding smacking her shin into a cardboard box. She had a towel wrapped around her, and her hair was darkened to red, still damp from her own shower. Her long legs were bare and still glistened with moisture. His stomach clenched all over again at the sight of those livid, barely-faded bruises on her neck, and a scrape on her arm that looked just as new. She scattered a few loose slips of paper left on the bedside table, crying out triumphantly as she found the one he had used to jot down the disarm code. Ned relaxed marginally as he realized she was the one who had set off the alarm.

Then she looked up, and both of them flushed a pure dull scarlet, realizing what they were—or _weren't_ —wearing. Ned stammered something, practically flinging himself back into the steam-fogged bathroom, skidding a little on the linoleum. He heard the bare soles of Nancy's feet slapping against the hardwood floor of the hallway as she raced for the panel, and then her loud sigh of relief after she successfully disarmed it.

Ned looked down at the woefully inadequate towel. He and Nancy were adults. If they were living together, sharing a bedroom and a bathroom, changing around each other, eventually one of them would slip and… it was no big deal. They would just deal with it. Seeing a flash of bra strap or the outline of a hardened nipple through nearly translucent cotton…

Ned cleared his throat, shaking his head hard to dispel that image. In his room at Omega Chi, there had always been something between them, a blanket or a pillow, but not last night. And Nancy hadn't been wearing a bra, and that had been new too: the feel of her breast, loose under the thin fabric, warm and yielding as she pressed against his chest…

"Shut _up_ ," he ordered himself, briskly toweling off.

Ten minutes later, hair damp, teeth brushed, gingerly shaved, and dressed in a pair of brand-new jeans and a plain gray t-shirt, Ned was poking through boxes trying to find a pair of clean socks when Nancy opened the bedroom door. Her hair was now dry, but she was still wrapped in that same oversized towel. Ned cursed himself for briefly wishing that she'd only found a hand towel instead. She was already emotional and exhausted; she didn't need him ogling her, fantasizing about her.

"Uh… that suitcase in the back of the car? Could you possibly get it for me?" She turned those gorgeous sapphire-blue eyes on him, and Ned knew he was putty in her hands. "I can't find any more—of my clothes. I'm sorry."

"Sure thing," he told her, triumphantly fishing a still-sealed bag of men's crew socks out of a box before ripping it open and pulling out a pair. "I'll be right back."

She gave him a smile. "I did manage to get the coffee machine unpacked and working," she offered. "At least some angel left us bottled water and instant coffee."

The woman who walked into the box-cluttered living room a few minutes later wasn't Nancy. Something about those brown-colored contacts and the dull wig they had given her made the purple-shadowed smudges beneath her eyes even more pronounced, and hollowed out her cheekbones even more. She had lost weight, since the last time he had seen her; everything had been so rushed and chaotic last night that he hadn't even really noticed. The plain black t-shirt she wore was too large for her slender frame, and her jeans looked just as new and stiff as his own. Her bruises were covered, though. She had to look "right," after all.

"Ready to go?"

Ned patted his stomach, which was already growling insistently. "Definitely," he told her.

Their first stop was at a nearby everything department store, where Ned grabbed a few necessary items he was pretty sure hadn't been packed for him, including a good electric razor. Nancy also had him try on a few pairs of glasses, until he put his foot down. "The tortoiseshell, then," she decided. "I mean, they all make you look hot, but those especially."

Ned couldn't help chuckling at that. "What, that studious grad-student look?"

"Something like that." She smiled at him, although he saw the anxiousness in it. He had to believe that they had gone far and fast enough that they wouldn't easily be found; otherwise, he'd lose his mind. If it came down to it, though, if a pair of glasses could convince someone that he really was Richard Nelson, not Ned Nickerson, he'd take it.

She mapped the fastest route to the closest grocery store, and Ned found his back to the highway as Nancy began jotting a list on a spare scrap of paper. "Until we unpack all the boxes, I won't know what we have, so let's just do perishables," she suggested. "Eggs, bacon, hamburger, things like that. I think there's a grill on the back deck, although it might be rusted out." She glanced at him quickly, the corner of her mouth twitching. He tried to blame it on his new glasses, but failed miserably.

Ned sighed. "You're never gonna let me live that down, are you," he commented.

She shrugged. "It's something we can keep," she replied. "Something real. Besides, I think it's gonna be so hot here that neither one of us will want to stay outside long."

Ned grunted quietly in agreement. Even the thirty seconds they had spent outside between the house's side door and their car had left their shirts faintly damp from the muggy, sweltering heat. The sun glared down mercilessly overhead, shining from a cloudless sky.

"Are we going to—try to sound like the people around here?"

Ned glanced over at her, shrugging at first before he shook his head. "It would be too easy to slip," he pointed out. "Like it's going to be hard enough _not_ to say your actual name when I want to get your attention. Unless we say that you go by 'Anna' instead of 'Di' as a nickname. Then it won't matter so much if I accidentally say 'Nan.'"

"Yeah." Nancy released a glum sigh, glancing down. He'd had a few days to adjust to this, albeit badly. She hadn't had much time at all.

In the grocery store parking lot, they made sure their new licenses were in place, then glanced at each other, simultaneously taking deep breaths. They had split up for most of their trip to the department store, so this would be their first real performance of being married, and while he didn't think it was a big deal, she was clearly nervous about it.

"So let's hold hands and walk in there and… treat it like a date," he said. "We're on an adventure, after all. This is our first day here and… I guess our first house."

"Yeah." Nancy nodded. "Yeah," she repeated, more quietly. She fidgeted with her rings, then brought her chin back up and squared her shoulders.

Ned couldn't hide his smile. Even under the wig and the contacts, she was still Nancy Drew. Nothing could keep her down for long.

"Mrs. Nelson."

A smile flirted with the corners of her mouth. "Mr. Nelson," she answered.

This wasn't Ned's first trip to the South, although he couldn't say that he had frequented too many southern grocery stores. Someone had decided to pipe country music through the overhead speakers, he noticed almost immediately. Most of the vehicles in the parking lot were SUVs or pickups, and he saw a handful of Confederate flag stickers on bumpers and back windows. More than a few sported monogram clings in bright, curly letters, and stick-figure families in descending order, down to dogs and cats.

The store itself was bright, although the almost overpowering smell of refrigerated seafood hit him almost immediately. Well, they were far closer to the ocean than Chicago. Nancy tugged a—

 _Diana_ , Ned corrected himself. It would likely be easier for him, because when she was wearing the wig and those contacts, and he was wearing the ridiculous glasses, he needed to call her Diana. That was a simple enough signal. Diana like Wonder Woman. Ned smiled at the comparison.

 _Diana_ tugged a cart from the nested train of carts, and dropped her purse into the vacant basket meant to hold a baby. The narrow woven belt affixed to it dangled loose. "So," she said, glancing over at him. "Produce…"

"If you want some rabbit food, by all means."

She wrinkled her nose at him, pushing the cart forward. "I feel like all my internal organs are coated in fry grease, after all that time on the road," she said. "Some nice lettuce and tomatoes should help."

On the cereal aisle, Ned pulled a box of chocolate puffed cereal off the shelf and propped his chin on the lid, giving her a wide innocent grin, and she giggled, waving him off. She shivered when they were walking in the dairy aisle, and Ned wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into his embrace and gave him a smile.

 _Nothing to it,_ he almost told her. All they had to do was show they were a couple in love, and the fake bands on their fingers would do the rest.

Nancy paused in one of the frozen aisles, Ned's arm still wrapped around her shoulders. He saw what she was looking at, and his lips quirked up for a second. "You want a repeat of that missed date?" he murmured, gazing down into her eyes.

She gave him a half-smile, too, although he saw the flash of remembered pain in her eyes. She had really beat herself up over missing their date. He hadn't even considered that, in his panic to make sure she and his loved ones were safe. "I mean, if you do," she said. "I would say we could go out, but we really need to save money."

He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "Okay. I vote for the one with cheese sticks."

She pulled the appropriate frozen pizza box off the shelf, shivering a little as she dropped it into the cart. "All right. Ice cream, and then let's head to the checkout. We have a _lot_ to do today, sweetheart. Roughly a billion boxes to unpack."

She pushed the cart to a checkout line, and the elderly woman in front of them was apparently buying for an army; she began to laboriously unload her overstuffed cart, and the cashier bustled around to help her. Ned stepped in close to his temporary wife and wrapped his arms around her waist, and his heart melted when she relaxed against him. He wanted to bury his face against her hair, but he didn't want to accidentally unseat the wig. And the wig didn't smell nearly as good as her actual hair.

Instead, he settled for leaning down and brushing a kiss against her earlobe. "I love you," he whispered.

She rested her hands over his and very gently traced his knuckles, and he was startled to find that even such innocent contact sent a frisson of arousal down his spine. "Love you too," she whispered.

They shuffled forward and began loading up the conveyor belt while the previous customer was paying, pursing her lips at the payment keys. Nancy— _Diana_ tossed a container of breath mints in with their purchases, then narrowed her eyes at the racks of magazines arranged at checkout. Ned's gaze had been drawn to the _Sports Illustrated_ he had seen there, but he followed her gaze. _Soap Opera Digest, People, Cosmopolitan._ She plucked one from the lowest rack, pressing her lips together as she considered it, then tossed it on the stack too. _Best Southern Recipes._

He quirked an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. "What?" she asked. "I can't really think of a better time."

"Then we should probably go buy some more butter. Right?"

She swatted at his arm. "Oh, hush. At least it isn't _Best Grilling Recipes._ "

Ned wrapped his arms around her and began to tickle her, and she fought him breathlessly, squirming and stifling her startled laughter. "Oh, you'll pay for that," he told her.

The cashier had already begun to scan their purchases, and Ned was still laughing as he positioned himself in front of the register. "Find everything you needed?" the girl asked, although it took Ned a few seconds to translate that from "Fine er'thin y'all nee'ed?"

"Yep," he replied. "Thanks."

She tilted her head as she scanned the loaf of bread. "Y'all ain't from 'round here," she commented, and it wasn't a question.

"We are now," Nancy— _Diana_ said, turning a sunny grin on the cashier as she slid her arm around Ned's waist. "Just moved in, last night."

The cashier smiled politely. "Hope y'all got some air condition'n'," she commented.

 _Diana_ nodded. "Thank God," she said, after a beat. "This guy is like a furnace when he sleeps."

Ned raised his eyebrows, glancing down at her. Nancy wouldn't have been comfortable talking about that, but then, _Diana_ was the woman in his arms right now. Diana, who didn't know how to play married.

"I hear yuh," the cashier replied, scanning the pizza and efficiently slotting it into a plastic bag before punching a button to display their total. "Y'all got a card?"

Somehow, Nancy and Ned managed to make it all the way to the privacy of the sedan before simultaneously bursting into nearly hysterical laughter. Ned didn't remember everyone in the South talking like they had globs of peanut butter in their mouths at all times, so maybe not _all_ of them spoke with such a pronounced drawl, but he could already tell he was going to have to attune his ear to it.

Ned's stomach also protested its meager contents, two cups of black coffee and a convenience store sleeve of salted peanuts left over from the day before, so he detoured through a drive-thru and drove away with a grease-speckled sack of assorted biscuits. At the first stoplight he hit, he peeled the sheet of waxed paper off one and bit into it with a moan of pleasure.

"Stick of butter," he told Nancy through a mouthful of flaky, pillowy goodness, wrapped around a spicy sausage patty and a folded layer of bright-yellow scrambled egg. "Gotta be." He groaned in delight as he swallowed. "Holy _fuck_ , this is so good."

She was unwrapping her own biscuit, a cheese-and-egg, more carefully, a paper napkin spread on her lap. "And to think, you didn't hold out for _that_ ," she said, pointing at a sign across the street. A neon sign advertised piping-hot yeast doughnuts.

Ned briefly clasped a hand over his heart. "Next time," he told the other restaurant before proceeding into the intersection.

As soon as they had put the groceries away, the refrigerated ones already sweating in the heat, Nancy put Ned to work in the living room, unpacking boxes and sorting their contents. He worked with one hand, holding his second biscuit in the other. Then Nancy returned from the direction of their bedroom. Her reddish-gold hair was visible again, and pulled up in a high ponytail. Her blue eyes were a little bloodshot, but she gave him an easy smile. "I'll get started on the kitchen."

Ned found a clock radio in the second box he unpacked, and wiped grease off his fingers before plugging it in and turning the dial to a classic rock station. Nancy was banging around in the kitchen, muttering to herself as she set up some kind of system to organize their inherited belongings, but when the next song started, she began to sing along.

Ned stopped what he was doing, glancing in her direction even though she couldn't see him from this angle. He had heard her sing before, and she was as good at it as she was at almost everything she tried. It had just been a while.

He liked it. He liked the strange, sweet comfort of it. Maybe this wouldn't all be so bad.

Once the living room was an even bigger mess than before and he had broken down all the boxes, Nancy sent him to their master suite to sort through those boxes. He put his new clothes on one side of the walk-in closet, and Nancy's on the other. When he saw the glimmer of silk in her suitcase, he almost jerked his hand back, his face warming a little. It was just… a little nightgown, he told himself. That was all. Nothing serious, nothing to be ashamed of.

He had finished sorting their clothes when he walked back through, heading to the kitchen for a chilled bottle of water. Nancy was in the guest bedroom nearest the front door, and when he walked by, he heard her grunt.

"You okay?" He took a long swallow of water as he stepped into the doorway. "Want some water?"

"Yeah, in a minute." She took a step back, wiping her perspiration-beaded forehead on her sleeve. Then she turned and gave him a small smile. "Guess they felt like leaving us a little present," she commented.

He came to her side, sliding his arm around her waist as he looked down at what she had found. It was a crib, he realized, unassembled, still in the box.

His throat suddenly tightened. There would come a day when this would be real, a ceremony in front of their family and friends, a long-anticipated wedding night, a leisurely sun-soaked honeymoon. After a year or so, maybe they really _would_ be looking at cribs and miniature outfits.

For now, though, he really was living someone else's life.

She shook her head. "Help me shove it in the closet?" she asked, glancing up at him.

By the time the sun went down, the house wasn't completely unpacked and sorted, but at least the end was in sight. They were both worn out and aching. Nancy sent Ned to a nearby dollar store to pick up a few food prep items that had been forgotten, including a baking sheet and a pizza cutter, and while he was in the store, he texted her photos just to confirm that he'd picked out the right things. She was laughing when he walked back in, laden with bags, half of which were full of cheap junk food. Her own hair was damp from a recent shower.

"You're adorable," she told him, rushing over to grab what she could, and then she stood on tiptoe, planting a kiss against his cheek.

A warm glow radiated throughout Ned's chest. This part of their fake-married life, he could definitely get used to.

He took a quick shower while the pizza was in the oven, this time making sure that he knew exactly where the towels were, and that he was fully dressed when he opened the bathroom door. The bedroom was mostly in order, the bed made with fresh linens, the clock radio plugged in at Ned's bedside. It still looked a little bare, though, and it took a second before he realized why. No pictures. No framed paintings or prints on the walls, no family photographs.

He shrugged. Under normal circumstances, no one else would be in this room. He supposed that it didn't really matter.

The table was set and Nancy was just slicing the pizza when Ned walked through the living room. He had tried the television earlier, but they would need a digital antenna to use it, and whoever had outfitted their new home hadn't considered that. Nancy's cell phone was plugged in, and an internet radio station was playing through its slightly tinny speakers.

"All the way, no olives," Nancy said with a flourish, glancing up at Ned. Her eyes were dancing, and she gave him a small smile. "Hungry, sweetheart?"

"Famished," Ned said, and Nancy blushed prettily when she realized he was gazing at her and not the pizza. Ned gave his head a little shake, and was absurdly glad that he had decided not to spring for a six-pack of beer at the store. He really didn't need to add alcohol to this already incendiary situation.

Nancy cleared her throat, then glanced at him in surprise as he moved to pull her chair back for her. "Practicing," he told her, and his voice was a little rough. "Thanks for cooking, honey."

She smiled at him and sat down. "So I have a good idea now of what we still need. When did the guy say they could come out and install internet service?"

"Friday at the earliest," Ned said with an agonized groan as he served himself a slice of pizza, then pulled a few cheesy breadsticks from the other pan. "I'm gonna lose my mind before then."

Nancy nodded her agreement. "You know how many times I picked up my phone today and wanted to check my email? Or just _anything_?" She sighed. "I'm almost afraid to make a new Twitter account, because I'll end up following some of the same accounts, just to see something _familiar._ And it would be so tempting to just look Bess up, or something…"

Ned reached across the table and touched her hand. "I know what you mean," he said. "But this isn't gonna be forever."

"Yeah." Nancy took a deep breath and released it as a sigh. "Yeah. We'll get through this."

That crib, though… maybe it really was window dressing, but it looked like more than that: a promise, however sincere, that Nancy and Ned would be living here long enough to use it.

Nancy had just given Ned permission to finish off the last cheesy breadstick when his phone chirped. The feds had established a protocol for contacting him, just to check in and make sure they were safe. The text message he saw was from them.

DELIVERY SPECIAL IN YOUR AREA. TEXT YES TO SEE OFFERS, NO TO OPT OUT. _Yes_ meant they needed help because something was wrong; _No_ meant all-clear. Ned tapped out _No_ and the send button.

YOU HAVE OPTED OUT. GOOD NIGHT.

"So," Ned said, looking up at Nancy again. She was just swallowing her last bite of pizza. "Uh, if you aren't interested in a Florida beach wedding… what do you imagine? When this is real?" He took a breath, then added quickly, "I mean, if you want to talk about it. We don't have to. We can wait…"

She grinned at him. "It's all right," she said. "Um… something back home. Our family and close friends, nothing _huge_. You know, white dress, flowers… a really pretty, simple cake at the reception. I don't want it to be stiff and formal and—boring. I want it to be fun for us, and for the people we invite." She glanced down, then peered at him through her lashes. "I… what do you want? I'm not the only one who matters here."

He smiled. "Everything you said sounds good," he told her. "You didn't like the idea of a winter wedding?"

She shook her head. "I see the old clichéd summer wedding," she said. "Nice weather and a short-sleeved dress. It's just easier, then. I think, anyway." She wrapped her hand around her sweating water bottle, but didn't pick it up. "My dad giving me away," she said softly.

He held up his left hand, palm facing him. "And vows," he said. "Otherwise… it's just empty."

"Like this." Her blue-eyed gaze locked to his.

He began to nod, but what was between them definitely felt real, heavy with meaning. Now that she seemed to be more calm, the sweet, familiar tension between them had returned.

Maybe a pillow between them tonight would be a good idea.

Then again, maybe a pillow between them tonight wouldn't be enough.

She glanced down, and Ned slumped a little in both relief and disappointment. "Guess I should get this cleaned up," she murmured.

"I'll help," he offered, pushing his chair back.

He could tell that Nancy missed having something to read; she seemed to be at loose ends when they went to bed that night. He would have been shocked if she had worn one of those short, silky nightgowns he had unpacked, and she didn't. Instead she wore another oversized t-shirt that swallowed her whole but left miles of bare leg on display.

Nancy was sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed when Ned joined her. He was considering tugging a pillow down to serve as a soft barrier between them when she cleared her throat.

"I was thinking," she said. "Tomorrow, when I'm in my wig and everything, and you're wearing your glasses, we should take some pictures, even if they're selfies. It looks weird that I have almost nothing on my phone, and that if I'm out and someone asks about you, I can't show them a single picture."

Ned shrugged his agreement. "That sounds good. And I'm gonna start job hunting. Apparently a fake bachelor's is part of my credentials, according to the resume I found on the tablet." He gazed over at her. "What about you?"

She shrugged. "No resume on my tablet. I think they didn't have time, with everything else going on. I noticed a sign for a temp agency when I was in town, though, so I was thinking about checking with them first."

Ned chuckled. "That would be pretty perfect for you," he commented. "Think you can work somewhere without investigating every little mystery you run across?"

Nancy groaned. "You might as well ask me to cut off my own foot," she sighed. "I'll give it my best shot, but…"

"But this is important," Ned replied. "Anything that connects us back puts us at risk."

She pressed her lips together for a second. "I'll be careful," she said.

He searched her eyes, trying to find the right words. "You're all I have to live for right now," he whispered. "If something happens to you…"

She shook her head, and when she cupped his jaw and gazed into his eyes, a shudder went down Ned's spine. "Nothing's going to happen to me," she told him. "Not now, now that we've found each other again." She moved closer to him. "I would have crawled through hell itself to get you back."

Their locked gaze felt like pure sizzling electricity, and as hard as Ned tried to fight it, he just felt pure joy and relief when he gave in, cupping Nancy's cheek and leaning down to brush his lips against hers. Then her lips parted under his, and his tongue slipped into her mouth.

They kissed hungrily, making soft noises of need and desire. He didn't know when his arm slid around her waist; he didn't know when she pushed herself up onto her knees, moving closer to him. But he _did_ know how warm she felt, and the moan she released after one particularly deep kiss made his groin tighten with need. Her nipples were peaked, and he could scoop her up in his arms, bear her down to the bed—

 _No._ He couldn't. He wouldn't do that to her. Wouldn't make their first time together just another ugly lie.

Very, very reluctantly, he released her. "Hey," he whispered breathlessly, stroking his fingertips down her cheek. "I… I didn't mean to get carried away. We should get some sleep."

He saw the vulnerability and need on her face slowly replaced with something else, a hint of sorrow and disappointment, then resolve. "Yeah," she murmured. "That… sounds good."

It was only when she was cuddled up to his side, her head nestled against his shoulder, her unconfined breast warm against his chest, that he realized he hadn't put a pillow between them. And somehow, despite the fierce consuming need their kiss had provoked in him, he drifted off before he remembered why this was too dangerous.

They were adults. They were going to slip.

 _But it's real_ , he thought drowsily, breathing in the sweet, clean scent of her hair. _The names are wrong but the rest… somehow, it's real._


	7. Chapter 7

"Happy reading, Mr. Nelson!"

Reaching out to take his new library card, Ned smiled and thanked the librarian, his enthusiasm not matching hers. "Where are the computers?"

"That hallway—" she answered, pointing to her left. "—leads right to the computer room. You'll log in for a thirty minute session, but you can renew it as long as no one's waiting."

The library was a surprisingly modern building that looked newly constructed. Large plate-glass windows lined practically every wall, although they were tempered to keep the sunlight from fading the materials. Well-padded upholstered armchairs were arranged in conversational groups, with small tables and task lighting at hand. Even the carpets looked practically new. Ned hadn't been sure what he was expecting, but he had been pleasantly impressed when he walked in.

Ned headed off in the direction she had pointed to, pulling out his cell phone to send Nancy a quick text telling her he'd successfully gotten a library card. His phone lit up with a response right away. She had been waiting to hear from him. They'd never kept such close tabs on each other before, but the fear that a single misstep could derail everything was making them overly cautious.

When Nancy had suggested Ned make the trip to the local library to start his job search, Ned had been hesitant to leave her at first. The days they'd been separated had been torture—and even worse for Nancy, who had spent that time mourning and grief-ridden. But Ned hadn't had it easy either, wondering if he'd ever get to see her again, hold her against him, tell her how much she meant to him. Wondering how long she would even remember him or what they had meant to each other.

Their house was a little bubble from their new reality, where they could look and act like their old selves. Ned knew that they couldn't live in that bubble forever, waiting for the day they could go back to their old lives again. They had to adjust to their new lives, their new identities, or risk slipping and losing everything.

The computer room was empty to Ned's relief, and he took a seat where he'd be able to watch the door. Part of him hoped the paranoia would fade with time, but another part of him was relying on it to keep him and Nancy safe.

Sighing, he pulled up a job search site. Their house still didn't have internet access, and he knew the sooner he started hunting for a job, the better. He'd already started the process back home—applied for any job that seemed remotely interesting, gone on interviews, and in a few cases, made it to a second round of interviews. It had been a nerve-wracking experience the first time; he wasn't looking forward to trying it with fake credentials he would be expected to recite easily.

Filling out the paperwork for the library card had been a good memory exercise. Even though his first instinct was still to answer as Ned Nickerson, he at least knew the answers for Richard Nelson. The information needed to make an account on the job site was more specific, though, and Ned had to refer to the tablet a couple of times.

Richard Nelson had a bachelor's degree in General Business, a few internships completed in college, and a year spent working at an entry-level position after graduation. At least the feds had tried to make it easy for him to get hired.

Ned saved a dozen open positions and submitted his résumé to the more promising ones. His own degree was in marketing, but he'd taken enough foundation business courses at Emerson, that he was confident he could widen his scope. He closed out the window just as his phone lit up, Nancy's- no, _Diana's_ face on the screen.

 _Any luck?_

He couldn't respond truthfully. Text messages weren't secure enough. The only truly honest conversations they could have were in the privacy of their house. Instead, he told her he was almost done and asked if she wanted him to pick anything up on the way home. He allowed himself to relish in the simple domestic task. Their situation was far from ideal, but he'd be damned if he didn't recognize the brief glimpses of the life they'd share as Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson one day.

Waiting for her reply, he opened an incognito browser. Tempted to search his and Nancy's names or open the _River Heights Gazette_ 's website, he sighed as Agent Parks's warning rang in his head. They weren't allowed to look up anything remotely close to their previous lives or the case. It was too much of a risk—a risk he didn't want to take, but he wished he could give Nancy some answers.

She'd told him all the details of his "death" that Agent Parks had left out, including how his parents were doing. But she had no answers of her own. She'd confessed early that morning—both of them still in bed, space between them because he'd been afraid she'd realize his body's response to holding her all night long—that she was afraid of her father reacting to her death just as she had to Ned's, putting himself in danger.

Nancy's reputation meant her death would be front page-worthy news for the _Gazette_ , probably the neighboring towns too. Given Carson's reputation, it'd probably even be in the _Chicago Tribune_. It'd be so easy to find out something, anything.

 _Just you. XO_

Definitely not a risk he was willing to take.

On his way out of the library, a display of novels by an author he knew Nancy enjoyed caught his eye. He picked out on with a bright orange sticker on it advertising it as a recent release, hoping Nancy hadn't read it yet. Heading to the stacks of books, he browsed the sections, picking out a couple paperbacks for himself, before grabbing another for Nancy from the mystery and crime section.

On impulse, he headed to the romance section and picked out a book he knew Nancy would be more likely to tease Bess about reading than she'd be to read them herself. He doubted the Nunezes were keeping tabs on library activity, so it was a long shot that checking out some mystery novels could be a red flag to Nancy's location, but Ned couldn't take any chances. He had to keep her safe.

The same librarian was at the front desk, and she smiled brightly when he placed the stack of books in front of her, his new card on top. "Big reader?" she asked.

Ned shrugged, returning her smile. He reached up and adjusted the still-unfamiliar glasses perched on his nose. "My wife and I just moved here. We haven't set up our Internet or cable yet."

The librarian shook her head, beginning to scan the books. "You kids would be lost without all those gadgets. In my day, my husband and I didn't need all that to entertain ourselves."

Ned blushed at the implication. Last night… They had gotten carried away, which couldn't happen again. Neither of them had made the choice to be together the way they were now. Whenever they made the decision to be together _that way_ , it couldn't be a decision she could regret later. He'd make sure of it.

"These'll be due back in two weeks. Anything else I can help you with?"

"No," Ned shook his head slowly, before changing his mind. "Wait, is there a flower shop nearby?"

The librarian's smile widened. "Now that's more like it."

* * *

 _Be home soon._

A knock on the door interrupted Nancy before she could respond to Ned's text. Looking out the peephole, she saw a young woman in her mid-twenties, sandy-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, standing on the porch holding a dish. She wore a ribbed tank top. So, not a technician or cable installer.

Nancy's stomach immediately clenched into a hard knot. Had they been found? Was the woman holding a gun under the dish, out of sight, to surprise her? Nancy knew from long experience that the best way to get past someone's defenses was to act natural and defenseless, as though nothing was wrong. Being furtive, sneaking around after dark, a lot of nervous glances over the shoulder, was the best way to be marked as an intruder.

If this had been River Heights, Nancy wouldn't have thought twice. She would have just answered the door.

Nancy took a deep breath and glanced at the woman again. "Just a second!" she called, and watched the woman shift her weight, smiling again just in case, but not overdoing it. Nancy saw no car or van parked on the curb or in the driveway, and the woman didn't glance behind her at some accomplice.

She would just have to go with her gut. And she knew she was on higher alert than usual, but based on her behavior, Nancy didn't think this woman was a threat. She just hoped she was right—and that if she wasn't, Nancy would be able to hold her off until Ned arrived and could help.

Nancy checked her reflection quickly. She'd unpacked an oval wall mirror earlier and decided to hang it near the doorway as a last-minute safeguard to make sure only Diana and Ricky, never Nancy and Ned, passed the threshold. As much as she hated wearing the contacts and the wig, she knew it was safer for her to wear them as often as possible, in case she needed to dash out at a moment's notice or someone caught sight of her through a window. Sometimes she just had enough, though—especially when she and Ned were here alone, and she could send him to the door to deal with any unexpected visitors.

"Hi!" The woman greeted Nancy when she opened the door. "Welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Mia Monroe," she introduced herself. "My husband Alex and I live in the blue house across the street."

"Nice to meet you." Nancy let out a sigh of relief at how easily she introduced herself as Diana Nelson. She kept her attention wholly centered on "Mia," while trying to appear normal.

"Do you mind if I come in?"

Nancy hesitated at the woman's eagerness.

"I just took this out of the oven, so it's still way too warm to hold," Mia explained, wincing as she adjusted the potholders underneath the dish and shifted her weight again. She wore capris and bright-orange flip-flops, definitely not the kind of clothes Nancy would have expected on a hired hitman. Or -woman.

"Of course," Nancy stepped out of the way, letting Mia in. "Sorry. The kitchen is this way. Things are still a little crazy in here..."

Mia placed the dish on the counter. "It's a blueberry lemon dump cake. I hope you and your husband don't have any allergies or a dislike of either."

"Sounds and smells delicious," Nancy assured her.

"Phew." Mia's smile grew. "This is my first attempt at being neighborly. I'm glad I didn't screw it up. And that you were home!"

Nancy chuckled. Mia's enthusiasm reminded her of Bess. "Would you like some lemonade?"

"I'd love some. Thanks." As Nancy moved around the kitchen, Mia looked around. "So why did you and your husband move? From your accent, it sounds like it was a pretty big move."

"We're from Florida," Nancy replied, carefully watching Mia's face for a reaction. Only sensing genuine curiosity, she finished pouring the two glasses and extended one. "One of Ricky's friends told him about this great job opportunity. It fell through last minute, but we'd already closed on the house, so here we are."

"That must be tough." Mia quickly added, "I hope you don't think I'm being too nosey. I'm just glad to no longer be the newbie around here. We only moved in four months ago. So I totally understand what you're going through—strange place, no friends."

Nancy chuckled. While it was sweet, Mia definitely couldn't empathize with Nancy's actual situation.

"So, four months?" She felt the last bit of apprehension drain away at the realization that Mia had been here longer than Ned's trouble with Marcus had been going on.

"Yep." Mia traced the drops of condensation falling down the glass. "Alex and I met in college and decided to stay in the area after we got married. He's originally from around here and was getting pretty homesick, though, so when his company had a position open up in their branch here, we decided to move. He's having a blast reconnecting with old friends. I'm still adjusting."

"Well, I appreciate you trying to make me feel welcome." She paused, hearing the front door open. "Ricky! We're in the kitchen," she called out, before Ned could say anything that would rouse suspicion.

"We?" he asked, as she heard his keys jingle. She had left a basket beside the front door for just that purpose. A second later he entered the kitchen, a colorful bouquet of flowers in one hand.

"Ricky, this is our neighbor Mia. Mia, my husband Ricky," she introduced them.

"It's nice to meet you, Mia."

"Mia brought us dessert," Nancy said.

"Then it's _great_ to meet you," Ned corrected, grinning.

Mia laughed. "I guess it's not just my husband who thinks with his stomach." She gestured toward the flowers in his hand. "Although, it does look like your heart's doing some talking."

Ned blushed, holding them out to Nancy. "Thought you deserved a surprise."

"Flowers just because? You two are clearly still in the newlywed phase," Mia grinned.

"Thank you. They're beautiful," Nancy said, rewarding Ned with a kiss on the cheek as she accepted them.

"Chrysanthemums. The florist said they mean optimism, joy, and longevity."

To Mia, they were normal wishes for a marriage. But Nancy knew the real meaning behind them.

Longevity. She hadn't said it yet out loud yet, but the fear was there. It'd be obvious soon that she wasn't really pregnant. What if the feds tried to split them up?

"Well, I'm going to head home so you can thank him properly. Thanks for the lemonade and chat," Mia said, getting up. "The four of us should have dinner or a game night or something."

Nancy handed the flowers back to Ned. "I remember unpacking a vase, but I can't remember which cabinet I put it in. Can you look?" She followed Mia out, promising to make plans soon.

Ned let out a cry of success just as Nancy shut the door. "Found it! I think. Oh, can you grab that bag by the door?"

"What did you get? A ton of bricks?" she asked, placing it on the counter.

He unpacked the books, handing her the ones he picked out for her. "Don't ask," he said, noticing her eyeing the cover of the romance novel.

"Thank you for the flowers and books," she said, pulling him toward her for a kiss. "It's good to know that Richard Nelson is just as sweet and caring as Ned Nickerson."

"Only for you, Nancy. Always," he promised, leaning down to claim her lips again.

Nancy melted into his embrace. In these moments, there was no questioning if they were Nancy and Ned or Diana and Ricky.

"So how'd it go?" she asked when she pulled away slightly.

Ned ran a thumb across her lips, shrugging. "Okay. I applied for a few and there were some more that I'll follow up on later. Did you hear back from the temp agency yet?"

"I'm going in on Monday for an interview. They think they have a few positions that might fit my talents." She looked at him questioningly when she felt his chuckle rumble through his chest.

"I'm just trying to think of what positions would need your lockpicking skills."

"I left out my more colorful skills," Nancy said, shaking her head. "They think I'm just a boring, run-of-the-mill office lackey."

"'Boring' and 'run-of-the-mill' are two things you could never be," Ned said. He played with a strand of hair from her wig. "Even with this hair," he teased.

"Speaking of, I think it's time to close all the blinds so we can have some privacy."

"I'm on it," Ned said. "I know you can't wait to take the wig off. Go ahead."

When Nancy returned, she found Ned scooping some of Mia's cake onto two plates. "Dessert first?" she teased him.

"It's still warm. There are only so many temptations I can resist," he said, handing her one of the plates and a fork.

She knew he was just teasing, but she also knew how tempting their situation was. There was so much she wanted to say to him, _needed_ to say to him. But she didn't know how. Not yet.

Instead, she brushed a smudge of blueberry from the corner of his mouth with her thumb and kissed him softly before telling him the one truth she was sure of.

"I love you."


	8. Chapter 8

The stereo growl of lawn mowers woke her.

Nancy didn't realize it at first. She just laid there, eyes closed, sensing the sunlight and warmth. She and Ned had celebrated the installation of their Internet service by immediately signing up for a trial Netflix account and binge-watching a show, and the last time she had checked the clock, it had been… four, maybe?

Ned groaned beside her. "Wha," he mumbled, then turned over and buried his face in his pillow.

Silently, Nancy agreed. But she was awake now, and her body had other ideas.

Ned was sitting up, rubbing the heel of his hand against the stubble lining his jaw when Nancy returned from the bathroom. He was pointedly not looking at her long, bare legs. She reached for the hem of her oversized shirt, ready to tug it down, then shrugged and moved back under the covers. She wanted to be comfortable when she slept, and she had been too tired to find the tiny cotton shorts she usually wore. Even at night it was too hot here to sleep wearing much.

Maybe _Ned_ would be more comfortable sleeping elsewhere, but some stubborn part of her that she didn't quite understand insisted that he sleep with her. They were practicing some of the aspects of marriage, after all. And she was already anxious enough; she didn't need to hear someone's stealthy footsteps in the house and arm herself with a baseball bat, then accidentally give Ned a concussion.

A cup of coffee each later, Nancy and Ned were standing in the carport. Nancy had put in her contacts, but she had drawn the line at making the wig a sweaty, dirty mess. She had carefully tucked absolutely all the hair she could under a ballcap with a visor to protect her from the sun glaring down from a bright blue sky.

Their yard had been looking shaggy for days, and a few intense thunderstorms meant that it was now both unkempt and an eyesore. They needed to blend in and be good neighbors. And the feds had helpfully provided a push mower, a trimmer, a few other assorted tools, and gardening gloves.

Nancy's skin was glistening with carefully applied sunscreen, and she stood with her hands on her hips, sunglasses over her damned contact lenses. "So I could mow—"

They looked at each other, and Ned opened his mouth, about to speak, when she gasped. "Oh. I can't. I…" Feeling both flustered and self-conscious, she barely mimed a round to her belly with one cupped hand.

Ned snapped his mouth shut and nodded. "Right," he said. "So I'll mow." He looked over at the supplies. "How much do you want to bet that gas can's empty?"

Nancy chuckled. "Whatever's in your pocket, sweetheart."

Ned leaned over, sliding his arm around her waist. She knew that most of what they were doing out here was for the benefit of anyone watching, but she was also very aware of the contact. "Something about a flashlight and being happy to see you."

Nancy released a loud, genuine laugh, a light flush rising in her cheeks. "Go get some gas," she ordered, swatting at him.

"Come with?"

She and Ned spent so much time together, and their newfound co-dependence—she didn't love it; she had been self-sufficient for so long, and it made her feel weak. When they had to, she knew she would adjust somehow to being apart at their jobs, not seeing each other for hours. But for now, she wanted to be around him. Every shared glance, every brush of their fingers, every one of his smiles, helped banish the depression and despair she had felt when she had thought he was dead. "Yeah," she agreed.

The nearest gas station was a quarter-mile away. They took the sedan; Ned still associated the pickup truck with times he had helped friends move, and besides, the sedan's gas mileage was better. Nancy sat in the passenger seat and pulled down the sun visor, catching a glimpse of her face, gleaming faintly with sunscreen. Her eyes widened.

"N—" Nancy caught herself and was momentarily exasperated. They were alone, and sticking to their cover identities any more than necessary felt so odd. "Honey," she amended.

"Mmm?" Ned would need another cup of coffee before he was fully awake.

"Whose mascot is this?" She gestured at her cap.

"Oh. Georgia Tech." Ned chuckled.

"Can I say I borrowed this hat from you? I don't—"

Ned reached over and gave her hand a squeeze. "Babe, it's okay. Yeah, I know enough about them to fake my way through a conversation. But even if I didn't, you could always say you have no idea where it came from."

Nancy nodded slowly, relaxing back against the seat. Sometimes it felt like everyone around them was waiting for one of them to slip, that just one mistake would be enough to kill them both. It was hard to get past that anxiety.

Ned filled up the gas can and Nancy went inside the store, out of curiosity more than anything else. She smelled strong black coffee and spicy pork and grease coming from a small restaurant attached to the gas station, boasting a few unupholstered booths and a backlit menu board that had yellowed with age, each item listed in black plastic all-caps letters. Four customers were waiting in line, and one walked away from the counter with a grease-specked sack of biscuits.

She emerged from the store to see Ned just heading inside, and he adjusted his course to intercept her. "Mmm?"

"Breakfast," she said with a smile. "Um, no gravy, though. That just sounded…" She shuddered.

"Mmm. Fried chicken?"

Ned had finished his biscuit before they pulled back into their driveway, which was an impressive feat, and he looked a lot more awake as he pulled out the gas can and inspected the push mower. Nancy found an outdoor extension cord that had clearly never been used, and checked the trimmer to make sure it was ready for her to use.

"Mmm. Let me run inside and grab a kitchen towel. You want some more coffee?"

Nancy nodded eagerly, although she felt a second of unease. Something about coffee.

 _Shit_. She wasn't supposed to be drinking coffee if she was pregnant. Although if anyone called her on it, she could say it was decaf—

And no one _was_ going to call her on it. They weren't going to be in witness protection long enough for her lie-by-omission to become obvious, she had decided. Women didn't show pregnancies for months, or at least some of them didn't. She would be fine.

She had plugged in the trimmer and extended the line on the driveway out to the mailbox when she saw a law enforcement vehicle pull into their neighborhood. The siren wasn't blaring and the lights on top were dark, and Nancy relaxed fractionally, but she couldn't stop herself from staring. If the feds needed to take them into custody for a quick move, it was likely they might use a car like this one.

The car pulled into the driveway of a house four doors down, and the driver emerged. A woman. The doors bore Sheriff's Office insignia.

Nancy watched her vanish into the house without knocking. She lived there.

Nancy had seen the car one other time, but it had been dark. She had an idea, though, and she considered it as she trimmed the tall grass clustered around the mailbox post, then started on the drainage ditch at the edge of the yard, near the street. The mindless work gave her plenty of time to think, and Ned, to his credit, made quick work of the yard. Of course he did. He had been mowing lawns since he was old enough and strong enough to push a mower, even back on his grandparents' farm.

A pang of grief squeezed Nancy's belly, and she frowned, looking down. Ned's loss had hit her hard, but it hadn't just been a few ripples in Mapleton. Ned was such an important part of so many people's lives, from fraternity brothers to longtime friends to his cousins and grandparents. He had done the right thing, in coming forward to give his statement about the murder, but it had cost him and his loved ones so much.

And it had cost her too. Oh, not Ned's reporting of the crime; she had managed to work past that. The man she loved was good, and he'd had no other real choice. But Nancy resented the hell out of the Nunez family, who had decided that human lives were expendable, that anyone inconvenient to them didn't deserve to live.

Nancy considered, too, as she weeded the mostly-empty flowerbeds. They should at least keep things neat for the next tenants. If this were her house, she'd have roses here; she was pretty sure she could find a few beautiful varieties that would thrive in the yard.

But it wasn't her house, it was _Diana's_ house. Maybe Diana would want chrysanthemums.

Ned helped her with the weeding after he was finished mowing all the grass he could, and then he headed inside to take a shower. Nancy needed one too, knew she did, but…

Yes. The woman she had seen emerging from the sheriff's office car had changed clothes and was now on a riding lawn mower, cutting precise swaths of grass in her larger yard. Nancy wasn't exactly thrilled that she and Ned had the smallest yard in the neighborhood, but she was grateful for it when it came to maintenance. The small backyard wasn't good for much, although their house had a small deck outside the back door, complete with a table and four chairs and the requisite grill. Maybe one weekend they could take Mia up on her offer of a double-date.

Nancy's brain rebelled a little at that. They weren't going to be here long enough to form lasting relationships, and getting close to anyone else meant infinitely more opportunities to slip and reveal some inconsistency in their cover identities. And that was all the more reason she should take this step.

She steeled herself and walked four houses over, then strode halfway up the driveway. The woman mowing the grass caught sight of her and seemed to consider for a few seconds, before dismounting. The machine puttered and shuddered to a stop, the throbbing sound of it abruptly cutting off and leaving an almost oppressive silence ringing in Nancy's ears. Punctuated by the echo of other neighbors mowing their own yards, of course.

"Can I help you?"

Nancy put a smile on her face, taking her sunglasses off. "Diana Nelson," she said, extending her hand.

The other woman scrubbed her palm on her shorts, which looked like they were made from sweatshirt material, and shook Nancy's hand. "Y'all just moved in," she commented. "Toni Russo."

Nancy nodded. "My husband Ricky—Richard—and I… well, I know this is probably an imposition, but if you notice anyone hanging around our house, could you let me know?"

Ms. Russo nodded slowly, a clear question in her eyes. "Do you…"

Nancy crossed her arms under her breasts. "We don't actually know anyone around here," she said. "We moved here from Florida, partially because… I have an ex who didn't take our breakup very well." Nancy glanced down, drawing on her experience with battered women, feeling very conflicted and almost nauseated at using it this way. Still, if anyone with the Nunez family found them, a beating would be the least of their problems. Thinking about what might happen to Ned in that case made the tears in Nancy's eyes genuine as she glanced back up again. "I know he has a gun, and if he found us, he'd go after Ricky. Mark's been really careful," she continued, heading off the clear question she could see in the officer's eyes. "He's never made the kind of threats I could prove. But I _know_ he would hurt my husband, or me. Especially if he found out…"

She rubbed her palm once over her flat belly, and saw the officer's expression become more sympathetic. Nancy _hated_ lying, especially about something so intensely personal as this, but it was also a way to cover her bases if the feds had left some kind of pregnancy-related paper trail.

"You have a description?"

Nancy nodded vigorously. "But you know those guys, who have cousins coming out of the woodwork? He's one of those, and his family is full of hothead assholes. I wish I knew it would be him, or _just_ be him. You know?"

Officer Russo nodded. "What kind of measures do you and—Mr. Nelson have in place? A gun in the house?"

Nancy shook her head. "We don't really like guns, although this might be enough to change our minds," she said. "And we just moved here, and I haven't had time to look up how to get a permit and all that." And that was mostly true. Nancy was very familiar with Illinois gun law; she had the impression that Georgia laws were probably more relaxed, but that was all. "We have a security system installed, though."

"Okay. Well, I'll definitely keep an eye on things if I can. You should go to the closest police department, though, and let them know too. They might want to step up patrols around here. Especially if you can identify cars or possible 'cousins.'"

Nancy smiled humorlessly. "We've done a lot, to get away," she said. "We've had to change a lot. I just couldn't bear it if anything happened to him."

The slight tremble in her voice at the end was genuine. If something happened and she lost Ned again, after this… she wasn't sure she could handle it. It had been hard enough the first time.

After they bid each other goodbye, Nancy jogged back to her house, remembering after a few steps that she needed to make her steps gentle. She had to protect her fake baby, after all. And she hadn't mentioned to Ned—

"Honey!" Ned was standing just inside the door, barefoot. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and moisture gleamed on his broad shoulders and muscular chest, dripping from his water-darkened hair. He sounded almost frantic, and the lines of anxiety in his face softened when he caught sight of her. Without another thought, without questioning it, she stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around him.

The feel of him so close… it was dangerous. But she couldn't seem to pull herself away.

"Sorry. I just walked down…"

Ned slapped the front door, sending it back into its frame with a smack. Nancy released a startled squeal, drawing in a gasped breath when Ned yanked her ballcap off and tossed it away. Her reddish-gold hair had to be flat and dark with sweat by now, but Ned didn't seem to care. His arms were tight around her, and he dropped his head to her shoulder, then nuzzled very gently against her neck. Nancy shuddered when his lips brushed against her skin, even as sweaty as she was, bits of fresh-cut grass and the pungent odor of gasoline clinging to her.

"Sorry," he whispered, and she shivered again when his breath touched her skin. The intimacy of it was making her almost lightheaded. Her breasts ached faintly, and knowing how close to naked he was… the skin between her legs suddenly felt more sensitive, too. "I couldn't find you…"

She patted his back, then clung to him. She needed to put space between them, but she was fascinated by this. She knew she was walking a very thin, fine line, a very important _no, can't, don't_ , but they hadn't crossed it—and she felt a perverse desire to come as close as they could. "I didn't mean to scare you," she murmured, and her voice sounded husky.

Ned pulled back, and she _saw_ the shuttering in his tender gaze. He very deliberately released her and took a step back, and she saw his adam's apple bob. "Okay. Sorry. Let me go… get dressed."

Nancy slumped against the front door once he had vanished, closing her eyes and willing her heart to slow. She was being foolish. Of course Ned was attracted to her; neither of them had ever denied that. _Acting_ on it, here, like this, _that_ would be stupid.

They hadn't chosen this sham marriage. And they had both decided to make the best of it. They would save all the joys of it for when it was real.

And _this_ wasn't real, she reminded herself firmly. _Wasn't_.

* * *

Ned was spooned up behind her.

Nancy took a slow, steady breath, trying to keep from waking him up. She was positive this had happened a few times before, but she had slowly come back to consciousness as Ned had very carefully put space between them, almost like he was repulsed by her. She knew that wasn't it; she knew that the glow of warmth against her back was because he had been cuddled against her.

Just like he was now.

 _Ned._ A quick glance through slitted eyes confirmed her hunch that her alarm would be going off momentarily, and she very carefully shifted to keep from waking him.

She would be heading to her first temp assignment this morning, in just a few hours. Ned was still job-hunting, which was much easier now that they had Internet access in their house. They had already agreed to meet for lunch if she could; the thought of being away from him for so long made her anxious. If someone kidnapped him as soon as she walked out, it could be eight hours or more before she realized it and started tracking him, and that was unacceptable.

Ned's arm was draped over her.

She responded to his closeness, closing her eyes, shifting very gently again. Just the feel of her t-shirt against her otherwise bare chest was almost too intense. In all honesty Nancy didn't know quite what she wanted; she _did_ know that she wanted Ned to be part of it, that she wanted to kiss him and hold him, to press herself against him. She wasn't sure if she wanted to actually, well, take _that_ step, but she wanted to be close to him. And he always seemed so afraid to be near her.

Ned made a soft sound, and then he froze. She realized that he was suddenly aware of what he had done in his sleep, and he began to move away from her.

Nancy's fingers closed into a fist. For a brief, heart-stopping second, she considered rolling over to face him, pulling him to her.

But she didn't. He might reject her, and the thought of that terrified her.

Her alarm went off a few minutes later. She pretended to wake, and turned to smile at Ned. "Morning."

"Morning," he replied, his voice gravelly with sleep.

Her wig didn't lend itself to many hairstyles. Nancy combed it and made sure it looked neat, smoothing her palm over her blouse. A short-sleeved white button-down and tailored black cotton slacks seemed like a safe bet for pretty much any job. She stepped into a pair of low, sensible heels, checked her makeup one last time, then walked out of the bathroom.

Ned was dressing too, in his own job-hunter outfit: white button-down, red tie, dark charcoal suit. He was just finishing with the tie when Nancy poked her head in and smiled at him.

"How do I look?"

Ned returned her smile. "Gorgeous," he replied. "Like Diana Nelson. Have a great day, babe, and let me know if you want to meet for lunch."

She nodded. "I really hope we can."

He smiled again, then sobered. "Be careful."

"You too," she said. "And good luck. I hope you find something great today."

He shrugged. "I think the trick is the second interview," he said. "At least I've had a couple firsts."

Nancy's stomach was tense and anxious as she went through her purse, making sure she had her Social Security card and her driver's license for her cover identity, and some cash, a small bottle of hand sanitizer, change for vending machines, a small sewing kit, a few assorted bandages—the things she always carried, the things she wouldn't give up even to be Diana. She felt somehow naked, and then she realized: her lockpick kit was stashed in the bedside table.

A woman in her early twenties could carry Purell and a few spare Band-Aids. A lockpick kit was entirely out of the question. Nancy wasn't even sure how legal it would be for her to be caught with it in Georgia—

And she couldn't call her father to get her out of an arrest for it, either. Couldn't tell the officer she was Carson Drew's daughter and expect the situation to get at least a little easier, even if it didn't resolve itself.

The thought left her both cold and a little excited. That was how it would be once she and Ned were married, a little. She would have his name, not her father's. But her father also wouldn't disown her, wouldn't ignore her requests for his help. She suddenly felt very alone.

Then Ned came around the corner, carrying his tablet. Nancy straightened, leaving her purse on the table, and raised her hands very slightly toward him, then reconsidered. She and Ned _needed_ to be independent, at least somewhat, if this was going to work.

His gaze was on her face when she met his eyes, though, and when he took a step toward her, she relaxed. She was very careful not to rub her makeup against the shoulder of his suit, but putting her arms around him, feeling him embrace her in return, did wonders. She wasn't alone, not as long as they had each other. And she was here for Ned, to help keep him safe. Loneliness and anxiety were a small price to pay, for that.

"I'm gonna miss you," he whispered. "I wish you didn't have to go."

She smiled. "Me too," she whispered. "Stay safe today. I'll let you know as soon as I can about lunch."

He kissed her just beneath her earlobe. "I love you, Nan."

"Love you too." She quietly damned the tears rising in her eyes, hoping they wouldn't fog her contacts before the end of the workday.

* * *

"Did ya say 'Anya'?"

" _Diana_ ," Nancy repeated, watching the older woman hang up her raincoat. "And you must be Barbara."

The white-haired woman beamed. "That's me!" she said, with a grin that deepened the wrinkle-creases around her thin lips. "You fillin' in for B'linda?"

Nancy nodded. "For a few days, anyway," she said. "Although it's hard to remember all the commands for the system…"

Barbara held up a batch of handwritten sheets she had slotted into clear plastic page protectors. "My life-savers!" she told Nancy. "Wanna make a copy?"

The factory where Nancy had been sent on her first temp assignment was enormous, with high ceilings and a very noisy concrete work-floor. She was happy to be at the back, in shipping and receiving, where she wasn't expected to do any manual labor beyond keying in orders and receipts. The thick walls kept out most of the noise, although that insulation also meant it was warmer here too. Most of the workers were men, and when it was time for break, they hit the vending machines and lounged in the bland room set up with tables and chairs for mealtimes.

This was Nancy's third day on the job. On the first day she and Ned had been able to meet for lunch, at a Wendy's less than a mile away. She had been so glad to see him, to make sure he was okay. Yesterday and today, though, she had packed her lunches and kept in touch with him via text messages. He was on interviews, and they were both hoping that was a good sign.

 _But for how long?_ she was wondering. If he landed a well-paying job and had to leave in a week… well, at least that would boost his confidence once they were back home.

Surely the feds had made some good progress on the case by now, with Ned's testimony, with the clues she had found. Surely the all-clear message would come any day now.

Nancy made a copy of Barbara's shortcuts list, and thanked her with a genuine smile. "Thank you _so, so_ much. Maybe I should make you a cake, for that."

Barbara chortled as she carefully typed out something using only her index fingers. Her workspace had clearly belonged to her for a while, and was papered with family photos and age-crisped messages pinned to the cubicle wall. From their resemblance, Nancy guessed they were children and grandchildren, for the most part. A row of small, brightly-colored articulated plastic cats was lined up at the edge of her desk, perpetually wiggling and waving. "I've had to go sugar-free, sweetie," she confessed. "And I ain't yet found a sugar-free cake that was worth the bakin'. I appreciate the thought, though. Anything else troublin' ya? Lemme see, I have a parts-sub list somewhere in here…"

Natalia had been working with Nancy the first few days, but Barbara proved to be much more help. Her knowledge of the antiquated computer system, but more than that, of _who_ Nancy needed to talk to when she had questions, was encyclopedic. She bantered with the delivery and shipment drivers, and her laughter was infectious.

At quarter to five, Barbara checked her flip phone—Nancy hid her smile; she hadn't seen an actual flip phone in _ages_ —and picked up her purse. "Gotta head to the bank, sweetie!" Barbara said, with a big grin on her face. "Can you hold down the fort?"

Nancy nodded. At first, she had just thought Barbara's perpetual smile and happy humming were just how she usually was, since she had just met her. "Something exciting?" she asked casually.

Barbara nodded. "I got this funny check in the mail, with a letter," she said. "They want me to cash it and I just have to give them like five percent or something! It sounded a little complicated, but I'll be able to spoil all my grandbabies at Christmas!"

Nancy kept a polite smile on her face, but internally she was groaning in disappointment. She had thought everyone knew about that scam by now, but Barbara had a flip phone. Maybe she had missed hearing about it. "Wow. That sounds too good to be true," she said. "Can I see it? Do you mind?"

"Sure!" Barbara pulled an envelope out of her purse, the flap torn. Nancy looked over the letter, and the check, which Barbara kept in her own hand. She didn't blame the woman for feeling protective. Both the letter and the check looked fairly good, good enough to pass a cursory glance. She was grudgingly impressed. The scammers had stepped up their game.

A well-trained teller would try her best to dissuade Barbara from going through with this. Nancy knew she should just trust that. She absolutely _couldn't_ do anything to draw attention to herself, anything that would connect Diana Nelson to Nancy Drew.

But she couldn't help it.

"Um… I temped at a police station for a little while," Nancy began slowly, hoping it would help Barbara believe her.

Barbara raised her eyebrows. "I didn't know police stations hired temps!"

"It was just to help key in some paperwork while they upgraded their systems. Anyway, a man came in with a letter like this. It's a scam."

Barbara gasped. "But… they're giving me all this money!"

Nancy shook her head. "If you look at it, it's a letter asking _you_ to send _them_ money. Via wire, so you'd have to send cash. The check is worthless. You cash it, thinking that you're getting all this money, but a few days later the bank tells you it bounced."

Barbara rested her hand above her ample bosom. "Are you sure?"

Nancy nodded. "If you don't believe it, you could deposit it, but _don't_ send any money, and don't spend any of the money from that check. That way when it bounces, you won't have overdrawn your account. But if I were you, just in case…"

Barbara frowned, her cheerful mood dissipated. "You said… the police…?"

Nancy nodded. "You can show them, and they'll tell you what I just said. I promise. Look, I'm really sorry. I know you were really looking forward to it. Can I maybe bring something to work tomorrow to cheer you up?"

Barbara shook her head and heaved a depressed sigh. "Oh, I just…" She trailed off, sinking back into her seat, gazing away.

Nancy gave her a small sympathetic smile. She gently placed the letter on top of Barbara's desk calendar and went back to her own desk. The surface was uncluttered by anything personal, just a workstation and monitor, keyboard and mouse, stapler and tape, a small calendar, a cup full of pens and pencils. Her rolling task chair was definitely a few years old, and the plastic mat underneath it was scarred and pitted from age.

She wouldn't be here long enough to pin up a photo of herself in her wig and contacts, Ned in his glasses. She was mostly glad. At least she was disguised. Ned was—exposed. Their Clark Kent charade wouldn't be enough to keep him safe, if it came down to it.

Barbara's chair creaked and groaned as she stood again, coming over to Nancy's desk. The older woman managed a small smile. "Well, guess it really was too good to be true," she said with a sigh. "Thanks, new girl. I'll see you in the morning."

Nancy gave her a smile. "Could I bring you breakfast or something?"

Barbara shook her head. "Uh, well, if you run across one o' those sue-due-coo books? If you think about it. I really like those."

Nancy nodded. "Okay. Have a good night, okay?"

She texted Ned to let him know she was on the way but would be a few minutes late, and stopped at a nearby bookstore she had spotted. The store carried a few different puzzle books, and she picked one out, pointedly not browsing through the mystery books like she wanted. While she waited in line at checkout, her disinterested gaze drifted over the tchotchkes on display. One of them was a model kit that, when assembled, would resemble the Hubble telescope.

Would it be too specific? Nancy picked it up, considering. Ned's parents had taken him stargazing as a child, out at his grandparents' farm; she remembered the happiness in his expression when he had talked about it.

He had given her flowers; he had brought her library books. This was just a little thing she could do, to return the favor.

Nancy left the puzzle book in the car and keyed in through their kitchen door. "Babe?" she called, closing and locking the door behind her. The pickup was here…

And a bottle of red wine was on the kitchen table. Nancy looked at it, raising her eyebrows.

Ned came around the corner, a huge grin on his face. "Hey!"

Nancy gestured at the wine with a small smile on her own face, then offered him the bag from the bookstore. "Uh, just got you a little present," she said. "Does the wine mean good news?"

He nodded, but happily accepted the bag she was offering. "Oh, that's really cool! I can put it on my desk—at my new job!"

Nancy laughed in delight. "You got it?"

He nodded. "And at the highest salary level, too! Guess that fake résumé really paid off!"

She launched herself into his arms, wrapping him in a celebratory hug. "Baby, that's great! When do you start?"

"Monday." Ned was still grinning as he hugged her back. "It'll be a relief to stop these interviews. Man. I had to keep a copy of my résumé in my portfolio just to make sure I didn't contradict it. And once I'm in, no one's going to ask me exactly when I was at that one fake internship… thank God."

She kissed his cheek as he released her. "I'm really proud of you. Maybe now we'll be able to afford cable." She winked at him.

"And ESPN!"

Nancy chuckled as she walked into the kitchen. She pulled out the corkscrew, then opened the refrigerator. "Okay, we have that leftover chicken I baked yesterday. What do you think about angel hair pasta with the chicken, and I can throw in some broccoli and carrots, some parmesan?" She glanced over at him and fidgeted with her wig, remembering just in time that the blinds weren't closed and she couldn't take it off yet.

"That sounds great, sweetheart. And those lemon cupcakes…"

Nancy closed the refrigerator door, sauntering over to the kitchen window so she could close the blinds. Anyone who saw it would just assume that since they were newlyweds, of course they wanted some privacy. "I'm sorry, did you ever _stop_ eating them?"

"I did. I left four. Two for each of us."

"Very thoughtful of you. Very chivalrous."

Nancy began to walk to their bedroom, so she could take out the contacts and shake out her actual hair. Ned came up behind her and pulled her into his arms, her back to his front, and she could feel the laughter vibrating in his chest. He was happy, so happy.

A thread of anxiety began to worm its way in, but Nancy dismissed it. His genuine happiness was too rare to squander, and she knew that job hunting had been discouraging, tedious, and exhausting. She managed to plant one foot against the floor, then twisted and launched herself up, her chest against his. Then she raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"I _am_ very chivalrous. See, carrying you to the bedroom?"

Nancy laughed. "Not just working off all those lemon cupcakes?"

He carried her a few more steps, and suddenly—her world shifted. Their laughter faded into an urgent awareness of how close they were, at their inevitable attraction, as their gazes locked and held. He adjusted his hold on her and carried her over the threshold into their bedroom, then slowly lowered her. He was becoming aroused, Nancy realized, as he took an awkward step away from her.

"Uh—I'll be right there," she said, keeping her gaze resolutely on his face. She didn't want to embarrass him, and she sensed that acknowledging what she had felt would do that. "Just need to…" She made a vague gesture to her face.

Ned nodded and cleared his throat. "I'll set the table?"

A few minutes later, Nancy rejoined Ned in the kitchen. She wore a tank top and comfortable cotton shorts, and her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her reddish-gold hair up in a high ponytail. She had stashed the ballcap in the small table beside the door, just in case she needed to partially disguise herself, but they weren't expecting guests, not tonight.

Ned had put out two plates and silverware, and was opening the wine. "Oh. Will this go with what you're making?"

Nancy shrugged and smiled at him. "It will if we say it does," she told him.

The pasta recipe was quick and easy; Nancy had memorized it a long time ago, and using already-cooked chicken made it even faster. Ned hummed in appreciation as he picked it up to take it to the table. "Looks great, sweetheart."

She beamed, picking up her wine glass. The merlot he had picked up was actually delicious. "We should say a toast," she said. "To our new jobs."

He clicked his glass against hers. "To our new jobs."

Over dinner, Nancy couldn't resist telling Ned about her co-worker. "She was so sweet, and when she told me about this scam letter she had received…"

Ned put his fork down, gazing at her. He didn't say anything, he didn't frown, but he was listening closely.

"I couldn't let her fall for it," Nancy said, her expression pleading with him to understand. "I told her I'd seen a scam like that when I was temping with a police office."

Ned nodded slowly. "And she bought it?"

Nancy tilted her head. "Are you saying I'm not a good actress?"

Ned wrinkled his nose at her. "You know that's not what I'm saying," he said, picking up his fork again. "And I know we're both being careful. I guess I'm just paranoid."

Nancy shrugged, twisting some pasta around her own fork. "Paranoid is better than dead," she commented softly.

Ned ate easily twice as much as Nancy did, but she didn't mind; it was a cheap meal, and now that he would be bringing home a paycheck too, they wouldn't have to be quite so careful about grocery costs. She eyeballed the leftovers, then dumped them into a Tupperware container for her own lunch the next day. Ned was happy to make himself sandwiches for lunch if he was eating at home.

They settled on the couch with their glasses and the rest of the bottle of wine. Nancy was feeling good; warm, happy, buzzed but not drunk. She couldn't contemplate another bite, but Ned was happy to grab one of the last lemon cupcakes.

Their conversation drifted into a quiet lull. The television was on, but low; neither of them was paying attention to it. Then Nancy glanced over at Ned, and couldn't help remembering what had happened right before dinner. Her body pressed against his, and his reaction to it. The wine had already brought a slight flush to her cheeks, and she felt it deepen; she laid the backs of her fingertips against her skin, dismayed by the heat radiating there.

They really _must_ be practicing, if she was so self-conscious about something so innocent. He hadn't even kissed her, and both of them had shied away like embarrassed teenagers.

 _And for what?_ Was he afraid of what would happen, if they… if he acted on what he was feeling? Ned was the sweetest, gentlest, most wonderful guy Nancy knew. _She_ wasn't afraid. The only thing she was afraid of was disappointing him, or making a mistake that might cost them their lives. And maybe this life they were sharing was practice, but she couldn't help feeling proud of what they had achieved, and starting from little. Once they were back in River Heights or Chicago together, they would have even more resources, a network, support to start building their life together.

Nancy finished her glass of wine. "What will be different?"

"Hmm?"

He glanced over at her, and she met his eyes. The wine left a warm trail down her esophagus to her stomach, and seemed to fill her mind with a soft, pleasant hum. "When we're really married. Will it be like this?"

Ned opened his mouth, but didn't speak for a second. "I think it'll be a lot like this," he said. "I mean, if you like the way things are now."

She shrugged. "I do," she said, then looked at the wine bottle. They could each have one more glass, and it would be gone. A distant part of her mind seemed a bit alarmed that they had drunk so much wine so quickly, but drinking even more sounded like a great idea. "As long as you stop treating me like touching me repulses you."

Ned drew a deep breath. "You know it doesn't," he began.

She leaned forward, reaching for the bottle. "I like when we're in bed together and you snuggle up with me," she said. "Why don't we always do that?"

She poured herself one last glass, and when she raised her eyebrows in silent question, Ned nodded, offering his own. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he replied.

Nancy put down the wine bottle, then moved closer to Ned. "I like cuddling with you," she said, looking into his eyes. "I think _you're_ the one who's uncomfortable with it."

Ned frowned slightly, then glanced down at his wine. "Maybe," he said softly.

Nancy pouted, still gazing at him, willing him to look at her again. "I don't want you to be," she murmured. "Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

"I do." She nodded, her heart rising in painful joy as he looked at her again. "And I trust you, Ned. I know you'd never hurt me."

Ned took a long sip of his wine, then put the glass down. She could tell he was trying to figure out how to answer her. "I love you too much to trust _myself_ ," he replied finally. "Baby, when I see you like… that…"

Nancy glanced down at her outfit. To her, it was ordinary; her bikinis revealed a lot more skin. "Like what?"

He rubbed his palms over his face. "Like yourself," he said. "You're so beautiful. And none of this is real. And I can't…"

Nancy's skin was tingling as she reached over and rubbed her fingertips over his forearm. "You mean _we_ can't," she murmured. "Because this is us, together. And when we're together like this, in our house… it _is_ real. It's not a crime for us to… want each other."

Ned's eyes were wide as he glanced over at her again. "You want me?" he breathed.

Nancy's heart was beating so hard, and when she thought of it, she didn't second-guess herself. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then slid the straps down her arms and took it off from under her tank top, her gaze locked to Ned's face the whole time. Her simmering arousal went a few notches higher at the stroke of her bra against her pebbled nipples, then the feel of her tank top against the sensitive flesh.

She wanted to take him by the hand and lead him to their bed. She wanted to hold him, even if that was all they did, and savor the sweetness of being close to him.

Ned swallowed hard, and his gaze slid down to her breasts. She moved a little closer to him, unable to stop gazing at his face, to read any sign at all: of repulsion, of disappointment, of need. "Nan," he whispered.

She slipped out of her sandals and moved onto her knees beside him, reaching for him, drawing him to her for a long kiss. She stroked one hand against his shoulder blades, her other hand cupping his jaw, and his warmth radiated against her sensitive breasts, making her lightheaded.

And oh, Ned was responding to her kiss. He didn't seem to be holding anything back. He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap so she was straddling him, and Nancy moaned, kissing him hard again. Ned's fingertips trailed up her spine, and when she settled against him, the join of her thighs pressed against him, where she had felt him respond to her earlier, both of them groaned. "Baby," he whispered.

She kissed him again, again, and when his fingertips flirted with the hem of her tank top, she actually trembled. His tongue slipped against hers and his hand stroked against bare skin, tracing her ribs, sliding up. She didn't know what was about to happen, but she was breathless, eager to find out.

Then his palm covered her breast, and she felt its firm warmth against her nipple. Ned made a growling, needy sound, and Nancy closed her eyes, shivering as his fingertips gently caressed her breast.

He shifted, and Nancy's heart skipped a beat, her breath coming in soft pants as he laid her down on the couch. Her legs were still parted, his hand was under her shirt, and she was lightheaded. She brought her hand up, stroking her fingers through his hair, responding eagerly to his next kiss.

And he was responding to her again, too. The feel of it against her made Nancy exhilarated and nervous. This, what they were doing now, she could still just call practicing, but if he…

His thumb brushed over her nipple and Nancy arched under him, needing something she had never known.

Ned pulled back, and both of them were panting, lips tender and red from their kisses. Slowly he released her breast and drew his hand from beneath her tank top. Without consciously deciding to, she released a whimpered, disappointed sound, gazing up at him.

Ned shook his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She kept her gaze locked to his. "I'm not," she said, her voice deliberate. "This isn't wrong. We don't need to be ashamed of it."

He searched her eyes, as though waiting for her to reconsider or take it back. She didn't, and he pushed himself back, then helped her sit up again. "I—Let me load the dishwasher," he said.

Her breasts were so tender, and that place between her legs was tender too. Nancy closed her eyes and put her hand over her heart, feeling it pound against her palm. So he needed some time. He was being smart.

Especially if they were back in Chicago soon. She would likely feel a little foolish for rushing into this if they were back living with their parents next week, celebrating their resurrection from the dead, planning a wedding for a year from now.

Once he had settled down, they decided to watch a movie together, and Nancy relaxed a little when Ned draped his arm over her shoulders. At least he wasn't pushing her away. It was sweet, platonic, but it still warmed her.

When her attention strayed from the movie, she glanced at her cell phone, facedown on the coffee table. Those few days without Internet had felt like torture, but even when they _had_ Internet service, all the sites she had always visited were off-limits. She had made a new Twitter account, but had limited her follows to national news sites. Facebook was too tempting, so she hadn't even touched that. Her email address was too brand-new for her to even receive any advertising spam.

She felt a strong, visceral pull to contact Bess. It waxed and waned, but whenever she thought of Bess, she desperately wanted to warn her, to make sure she was careful around Marc. As the investigation progressed, as they amassed evidence against him, he might become more suspicious. Nancy would be beside herself if something happened to Bess, on top of everything else.

If only she could somehow get Bess _here_ , where she would be safe.

Nancy smiled to herself. They couldn't just pick up the towns of River Heights and Mapleton and transplant them elsewhere; she wouldn't want that, anyway. And they would be home soon. She had to believe that.

When it was time for bed, Ned accompanied her to the bedroom. They brushed their teeth side by side, and then Nancy double-checked that her alarm was set and plugged her phone in.

Ned was standing in the doorway, frowning slightly. "I—I should probably sleep on the couch," he said.

She shook her head. "Please don't," she whispered. "Stay in here with me. I'll worry if you aren't here."

He took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, then took a few steps toward the bed. "All right," he murmured.

In the darkness of their bedroom, once he had pulled the covers over him, Nancy gathered her courage and moved close to Ned. He released a long breath as he put his arm around her.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," he replied. "With all my heart."

They would be home soon, she told herself, before drifting to sleep. They would be home and safe, and they would plan their life together. Until then… it really would be best if she and Ned stayed apart.

She just wasn't sure anymore if they could hold out that long. And if Ned gave in, in a moment of weakness, and then regretted it… that would break her heart.


	9. Chapter 9

_Please note that the end of this chapter includes adult content; it's not extremely explicit, but if you'd prefer not to read sexual content, you can tell when it's about to happen and you can skip the end._

* * *

For six weeks, Ned had lived in both heaven and hell.

Hell, because his family thought he was dead. All his friends, save one, thought he was dead. Almost everything he knew and loved was no longer an option. No more going dancing at the River Heights Café, or taking a trip with friends up to Chicago to visit their favorite clubs and bars. No more of his mother's double chocolate cake, or Hannah's. Every single second he was outside the house, he had to live a lie, embodied by those damn fake glasses he wore.

Hell, because he was working, _really_ working, for the first time in his life. That part wasn't bad. What _was_ bad, was not even knowing how long he would be working at his job. What was bad, was knowing that he and Nancy depended on his salary, that losing his job might put them in danger.

Hell, because he woke up beside the woman he loved every morning—and he couldn't touch her.

And it was heaven at the same time, in those moments when he was able to so briefly forget all the danger they were in, that the circumstances had been mostly outside their control, that their marriage was just a cover identity to help keep them safer. _He was able to wake every morning beside Nancy Drew._ He saw her before the wig and contacts were in place; he saw her familiar grin, felt her sweet kisses, felt her growing more comfortable in their sham marriage. They were children playing house.

Hell, because this was _playing_ , that was all, and he forgot that every now and then.

They would be going home, and this would just be a funny story to tell their friends, like waking up tied up in the back of a panel van that was rapidly filling with water and escaping relatively unscathed, like sabotaging a yacht engine before their kidnappers could reach international waters and dump their bodies. "Oh, Nancy and I played house for a month and a half because the mob had a price on our heads and we had to fake our deaths. It was wild. We had to _pay for cable!"_

For the first time in his life, he actually believed there was a chance, a good chance, that Nancy would agree to marry him. There was still something surreal about seeing her in their small, bright kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist, beaming as she showed off an elaborate dessert, or about seeing her in the walk-in closet—

Ned did his best to shut that memory out of his mind's eye. He had known that they would eventually walk in on each other, but Nancy was becoming very comfortable with being in her underwear around him. The only time he had ever, very reluctantly, said anything, she had said that she had worn more revealing bikinis around him, and worse, that _she trusted him._

She shouldn't have.

Besides, what did she trust him to do? Because he had already gone well beyond any lines of politeness or decorum. Oh God, in the past two weeks, he couldn't count the number of times he had realized that his hands were under her shirt and he was pulling her against him, hungry for her, needing her in a way he had never let himself need her before. This had never been possible before. This hadn't even been in the realm of his wildest fantasies before.

And she _responded_ to him, and that made it worse. She gave him that look from beneath her lashes and he could practically feel the heat radiating from her smooth, gorgeous skin. She cuddled against him when they were in bed, and Ned felt terrible when his body seemed to interpret that as an invitation instead of just an instinctual need for comfort.

They were both in need of comfort. They both needed reassurance that this purgatory would end soon. Ned told himself often that for as long as their being in Georgia helped keep his parents and other loved ones safe, he wouldn't begrudge a moment of it, but that didn't mean he wanted this a second longer than necessary.

He and Nancy weren't married. They were just pretending to be married. They had spoken no vows to each other. He wasn't about to cheapen what would be one of the most important, most genuine moments in their relationship.

 _It's not a crime for us to want each other._

These weeks had just sharpened that want unbearably. Every time he woke to find himself aroused and pressed against her, when she didn't gasp and jerk away from him in horror, he found himself imagining more. If they could just sleep apart, it wouldn't be a problem anymore, but he believed her when she said she would be worried if she slept alone. Ned knew he would feel the same way.

One day, she would be his wife. But she wasn't yet. And this was his way of proving to her that he was worthy of being her husband, as much as he ever could be worthy.

* * *

"Are you staying around here for the holiday?"

Nancy glanced up at Mia, blinking in surprise. One negative side effect of working on just making it through each day was forgetting what came the day after. She had completely forgotten about July 4.

And that depressed her. Not the prospect of the holiday, but the prospect of spending it here while their families still believed them dead. No potato salad and red-white-and-blue trifle cake at the Nickersons'. No fireworks at the River Heights airport. Surely this couldn't go on much longer. It had already been—

Six weeks. Six whole weeks.

"We're going to the beach," Mia volunteered, as Nancy struggled to focus her spiraling thoughts. "Around Savannah? Apparently it's really nice."

Nancy forced a smile. "That sounds great," she said. "Uh, I think we'll be sticking around here. We're still kind of recovering from all the moving expenses."

Mia groaned. "Oh God, don't remind me. But I guess you two can take a long weekend staycation? It's your six-month anniversary, after all."

This time, Nancy managed to keep the smile on her face and completely hide the dismay she was feeling. She distantly remembered deciding it wasn't worth it to be anything more than polite to Mia and Alex; now they had already double-dated twice. Nancy had the day off before her next temp assignment started, and Mia had jumped at the chance to go shopping.

Not that Nancy had bought anything. It was so strange, almost uncomfortable, to have a quiet tape running in her head: she and Ned had to be careful with expenses, because _there was no safety net._ No parents to call, no savings account. The feds had provided all they intended to, apparently. Now, eating at a restaurant was a special treat, something they budgeted to do.

A part of her wanted to say to hell with it, and just spend the money on whatever she wanted. She was glad, now, that she had consistently refused. With every passing day, as they added up to weeks, she was more and more positive that the end had to be just around the corner—but it kept creeping back. She knew they would go home and leave all this behind, and she was more than impatient for it.

Once they were home, she and Ned could do this right. But for as long as they were here…

"A staycation sounds like just the thing," Nancy told Mia, while thinking the exact opposite. God, what she wouldn't do for a case… something that would allow her and Ned to focus on something else, spend time together, bond the way they had before. She knew it was a fix, that she just loved the exhilaration of figuring out the clues and catching a bad guy, but it had been so long—and her last case had landed her here.

There would be no cases for her, not until she was back home. No father, no Hannah, no Bess and George. Mia was fun, but Nancy missed everything about her old life. Everything about her _real_ life.

Except for waking each morning to see Ned beside her. Maybe they couldn't act on how they felt about each other, but she loved him and he loved her.

Mia was looking at Nancy speculatively when Nancy gave her head a little shake and brought her attention back to her new friend. "Hmm?"

Mia picked up a bottle of nail polish, pursing her lips as she considered it. "Just wondering what your thing is," she replied.

Nancy's heart rate kicked up a few notches. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that it clearly isn't shopping. Cooking? Art?"

"Oh." Nancy shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I'm just afraid to do anything extra right now, you know? Once we're… comfortable…"

They never would be, not in any way. Not with each other, not in this situation. Not knowing that any day, this life might just fall away. There was no point in investing too much into it.

Mia smiled. "Plus you've never been married before," she said sympathetically. "I think sometimes it's hard to figure out who you are with your husband, you know? He wants you to cook and clean and basically be his mom…"

Nancy considered that as they went to the frozen yogurt shop. Mia offered to buy hers, but Nancy refused; they could at least afford some frozen yogurt, dammit. Soon enough, Mia said, Ricky would be earning enough that they would have a little cushion…

Even now, after so long, Nancy still hadn't gotten used to hearing other people refer to Ned as "Ricky." When she was off-guard, she still took a second too long to respond to "Diana." It was just another way of fighting this, of saving her energy.

Was Ned really expecting her to become like Edith? Well, they had already acknowledged that Nancy was definitely better in the kitchen than Ned was, but he seemed happy to throw himself into chores. Cutting the grass, loading the dishwasher, taking out the trash and the recycling. She had been doing the laundry over the weekend when Ned had asked her to show him how she did it. He had even vacuumed without her asking or even mentioning it; it was easy for Nancy herself to even forget about it. Why establish rhythms to their life and their household?

 _Why do any of this?_

Because this life stood between them and oblivion.

They were on the way back when Nancy saw a message from "Richard." _We'll be going out for dinner tonight. Sorry for the late notice, but I just found out. Love you._

Nancy read the message three times. _Okay. Love you_ , she replied.

 _Feds._ She and Ned had kept in touch with them, but just to check in. They hadn't heard any updates on the case in almost two months. Nancy's heart began to beat harder. Maybe… maybe…?

Mia gave Nancy a hug when she dropped her off. "Look, if you change your mind and want to go to Savannah, just let me know. But if you two totally want to be alone, I'd completely understand that."

Nancy smiled. "Thanks. Maybe…" She mentally crossed her fingers. "Maybe once the weather's cooler."

"Good idea, girl. All right. I'll see you later."

Nancy flipped through the dresses in the walk-in closet. For the hundredth time she caught herself looking for the blue dress Ned loved, for the cute black dress Bess had helped her pick out, for her favorite sundress. They were all back in River Heights. She comforted herself with the thought that she might be back there soon, and felt such an incredible, dizzying rush of longing that she caught the wire rack with her fingers to keep her balance.

There was one thing she would miss, though. Spending so much time with Ned. Being so dangerously, wonderfully close to him.

She picked out a sundress in lime and white, and was just finishing up her makeup when Ned came in. "Hey," he said breathlessly. "We're meeting them at six-thirty."

"Them?"

"It'll look like a double date. So that dress is perfect." He smiled and kissed the crown of her head, then yanked on his tie as he left the bathroom.

"Did it sound like good news?" she called to him, trying to keep from sounding too excited.

"It was over text, so I don't know," he confessed. "Maybe."

Nancy couldn't help imagining. _Another witness came forward. Marc was killed in an assassination attempt by a rival family. Bess is safe, everyone is safe. Come home. It's over._

And then, a tearful reunion; an engagement, showing off the ring to people who would understand what it meant to both of them. Arranging lots of trips to Fox Lake and Chicago so she and Ned could…

Could torture each other the same way they had been the past month?

Nancy met her brown contact-lenses-darkened gaze in the mirror. Yes. It had been torture, but it was exhilarating too, to know that Ned wanted her, to feel the proof of it. Going back home wouldn't change it, and she knew she would wake in the grips of disoriented panic at first, reaching for him and fearing the worst when he wasn't beside her: that he truly was gone, that this had all been some guilt-fueled fantasy. Some subconscious determination that only trading absolutely everything else in her life could possibly bring her dead boyfriend back.

Nancy gave her head a brisk shake, reaching for her mascara. So she and Ned would take the time and do this right, and when he took her to bed, probably on their wedding night, everything would be perfect. No doubt, no fear, no misgivings. They would finally have the permission he needed to act on his desires.

And _that_ thought made Nancy's breasts tingle, her nipples tighten in anticipation. Ned was so, so very good. She didn't know why a part of her was so determined to tempt him.

At 6:25, they pulled up outside the restaurant the feds had decided on for their meet and exchanged a glance. Ned was wearing the charcoal suit he had used for interviews, and he looked devastatingly handsome, as he always did. Nancy checked her reflection one last time, and gave him a nod.

"Ready?"

He grinned. They hadn't been able to resist discussing what _might_ happen, the reprieve they were both dying to hear. This had been fun, but they were more than ready for it to be over. Soon, their lives could truly start. "Definitely."

The Asian bistro was a few years old. Some of the interior decor still looked fairly new, but the carpet was stained and marked by foot traffic, and she saw tears in the fake leather covering the banquet near the bar, which was well-populated and loud with clinking glassware and inebriated conversation. A fish tank displaying blue and silver fish, a large koi, some impossibly small silver flecks that swam with brisk purpose, stood at the edge of the waiting area, the glass smeared in places from the sticky fingers of curious toddlers. The smell of frying oil permeated the place.

"Two?" the hostess asked in accented English, pulling a pair of menus from a slot at her station.

"We're—"

"All together." A blonde woman wearing a cream silk blouse and a pinstriped pencil skirt walked toward them. She looked like she had just come off work. The man a step behind her was nondescript, with brown eyes and medium brown hair; even his suit was unremarkable. Maybe Ned claimed his features helped him blend in, but Nancy had always disagreed. The male agent, though, was so forgettable that her eye very nearly wanted to just skip over him.

Agents Linstrom and Taft, matching the descriptions Agent Karmel had provided. Nancy relaxed slightly.

"Diana." The man stepped forward and gave her a polite smile, then gestured at the blonde. "This is Amelia."

"Pleased to meet you," Nancy said, shaking her hand, playing out the charade.

They were seated at a table in a less public part of the restaurant, away from the families clustered around flat-top cooking stages for the flashy chefs. The agents sat facing the front entrance, and their gazes stayed there most of the time. Agent Taft kept his jacket unbuttoned, and Nancy could make out the bulge of a gun beneath.

 _They're trained to be on guard, that's all._ But Nancy felt her irrational certainty that this meeting meant good news slip down a few notches.

Their waitress arrived to take their orders, and Nancy glanced over the menu. She was ready to tell the feds that she'd apparently had an early miscarriage, but no one had asked, and many of the clothes she had bought were loose and high-waisted to maintain the weak illusion. Just from habit, she avoided the sushi and sashimi part of the menu. As a quasi-faux pregnant woman, no raw fish for her.

"So what's going on?" Ned asked, once the waitress had left to put in their drink orders. "Has there been a break in the case?"

Agent Linstrom looked down at her napkin. Taft cleared his throat. "Not the way you're thinking," he admitted.

Ned's death had been faked via car bomb, as they both knew. According to Taft, two people working for the feds were inside the Nunez operation, and one of them had turned over evidence showing he had killed Nancy, dismembered and weighted down the pieces of her body, and disposed of it in the lake.

A small part of Nancy really, _really_ wanted to know how they had faked that. The rest of her definitely didn't.

Linstrom correctly interpreted her expression. "An unclaimed corpse and Photoshop," she explained. "If anyone looks, there _will be_ a body down there."

Nancy nodded, although her stomach clenched in sympathy. That poor woman.

"However, one of our sources vanished over the weekend. His body turned up in the trunk of an abandoned car." Taft looked at Nancy, then Ned. "He isn't the one who claimed responsibility for killing you, but he knew about it. Not where you were, but that you were still alive." Taft had his eye on the door as he added, "And he knew about the other person we have on the inside, too. There was evidence he had been tortured."

Ned reached for Nancy's hand, and she grasped it tightly.

"If you spot _anything_ suspicious, report it," Linstrom said. "Someone too friendly at work. Someone new in your neighborhood. _Anything._ "

After hearing about Mia, the feds had run her and her husband through a check. They were perfectly clean. Alex's grandpa ran moonshine, but that was all they'd found, and it was hardly worthy of comment.

Nancy nodded. "How long, until…"

"The good news is that the Nunezes aren't exactly known for subtlety. But they also know that Ned went to the police about what he saw, and that we're building a case against them. They might exercise patience in looking for you." Taft nodded at Ned. "It's been a rough week."

Nancy glanced over at Ned. If one of their sources had been eliminated, if the other had been compromised…

"What does this do to the case?" Nancy asked, almost reluctantly. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear the answer, not after having psyched herself up for the past few hours.

Linstrom smiled and thanked the waitress as she delivered their drinks, then asked about their entree orders. For her part, Nancy's appetite had almost entirely vanished, but she forced herself to smile as she requested a plate of hibachi chicken with fried rice and stir-fried vegetables.

Once they were alone again, Linstrom turned her gaze on Nancy. "Well, it doesn't help," she said frankly. "We'll have to pursue alternate avenues. Other sources who can help provide evidence."

Nancy wasn't sure why or how she made the leap, but as soon as the thought surfaced in her mind, she spoke it. "Bess? Please…"

Taft put his water glass down on the table top. Condensation was already dripping down the sides, pooling on the mat beneath. Nancy could feel the humid heat against the nape of her neck, under her wig. She could also feel the clammy sweat of panic under her dress. Bess was brave, but this—the stakes were too damn high.

"She's told Chief McGinnis that if she can do anything to help find the people who killed you both, she's more than willing," Linstrom said quietly. "We had no idea when Ned reported this crime that… well, that it would impact so many people the way it has. No one doubts that foul play was involved. Ms. Fayne has been… particularly insistent."

 _George_. Nancy felt a panicked fluttering in her chest. She felt so, so fucking powerless.

Was this how Ned had felt, before she had joined him? Because losing her life but saving her friends' lives was more than a fair compromise. Thinking of their being in danger right now, as they sat hundreds of miles and almost half a day away, was worse than horrifying.

"My parents?" Ned asked, and his voice was so unlike the way he normally sounded that Nancy glanced over at him, tears stinging in her eyes. He hadn't been there for the funeral, and at least that was a small comfort. His funeral had been a nightmare, and it hadn't given Nancy any closure at all. It had felt senseless.

Taft looked at each of them again. "Don't do this," he said, his voice firm. "This meeting was just to make sure you were both alert and aware to the new danger. Yes, it's a setback. We're working. And if it's ever safe for you two to come back…"

Nancy hadn't even considered that. And what if it was safe for her to go home, but not Ned? She couldn't leave him here. Not that she could imagine any circumstance that let her go home but left him out here in the cold. Because it would mean his being relocated, she was sure, away from anyone who might reveal his continued existence…

Nancy inhaled sharply, trying to keep the tears from falling and ruining her mascara. At least any emotional outburst on her part would likely be chalked up to pregnancy hormones.

" _If_?" Ned sounded almost angry.

"The murder you witnessed isn't the only crime we're investigating," Linstrom reminded them, her own gaze narrowed. "We need to do everything we can to take as many of them out as possible, at once. This case has been years in the making. And it…"

Nancy couldn't bring herself to say it, but Ned did, his voice dull with shock. "It could take years to finish."

Taft nodded. "Of course we could hit a lucky break, but we aren't counting on it. I know it's hard, that it feels impossible, but you need to take what and who you were and put it away. Put it in a box in your mind. _This_ , Richard and Diana… this is who you are now, who you will be for the next few years. Make friends. Settle down. So that in a few years, if people come poking around, no one will say 'They never really seemed to fit in here,' or 'They always seemed like they were hiding something.' At best, it will quite literally save your lives."

The tears she had successfully stifled rose again, and Nancy reached for her napkin as one of them slid down her cheek. Linstrom directed a faint, sympathetic smile toward her, but didn't say anything.

There was nothing _to_ say. Nothing was going to make this any better.

"This isn't protective custody," Linstrom finally said. "This is long-term. You two knew that, didn't you?"

Nancy couldn't look at Ned. On some level, she supposed, she probably had. But she had been in fierce denial every single second they had been awake, fighting this. It felt like betraying her father and her friends to relax, to enjoy any element of this, anything beyond her relationship with Ned. To be told to build a new life without them felt wrong in every possible way.

The rest of the meal passed in something close to silence, punctuated by small talk between Taft and Linstrom that Ned occasionally joined. Nancy only faked a smile and a nod when she was asked how her meal was. She couldn't taste it. She just forked bites mechanically into her mouth and registered components: salt, savory, the slippery yield of sauteed zucchini. She was only able to eat half before pushing her plate away.

She just felt numb.

Maybe she had been in shock, ever since Ned had been gone. She considered that. It made some sense. The nightmare had just changed.

They didn't speak much on the way back to their house. It wasn't simmering anger or any kind of silent treatment. They had both just been stunned into silence, trying to find a way to make all this make sense. Because it didn't.

She wasn't Diana Nelson, and she wouldn't _be_ Diana Nelson. Jack of all trades, master of none, fortune tied to her husband's. No hobbies, no "thing" that brought her joy, because all that brought _Nancy_ joy was denied to her now, save Ned.

No safety net. That thought came back to her and Nancy choked for a second. As soon as he pulled the car in, Nancy popped open the door, but there was even less relief in the muggy, stifling air than in the car. Thick gray clouds had been piling overhead all afternoon, and she could hear the distant rumble of thunder, like some mocking portent.

She suddenly understood what Ned had been trying to tell her all this time. He didn't have Nancy; he had _Diana_ , a woman who wasn't real and never could be. And as much as she tried to believe she had Ned, she had _Richard_. A man cut off from his family and friends, aching and making the best of his situation. And both of them were drawn to the echoes of who they had been, what they saw in each other.

 _Years_ of this.

Her heart heavy, Nancy took her leftover meal inside and stowed it in the refrigerator, then walked straight to their bed and laid down. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth, she would start screaming and never, never stop.

* * *

Most of Ned's coworkers were taking at least half of Friday off, eager to get a jump on the holiday weekend. No one was coming in Tuesday, and few people were expected to come in Monday. He heard easily a dozen people talk about going to the beach, and another dozen talk about "getting drunk at the lake," although he hadn't yet figured out what "the lake" meant around here.

 _Make friends. Blend in._

He would work on that after the holiday weekend. Nancy had reminded him yesterday that, according to their fake wedding certificate, their six-month anniversary would happen over the weekend… and if they truly were trying to pretend they were Richard and Diana, it would be a big deal. Not as big as their fake first wedding anniversary…

Oh, oh God. That thought made a literal pain stab through Ned's chest. Celebrating Christmas without his parents? He _never_ had. Christmas, Thanksgiving… so many holidays. July 4th wasn't even the big one in his family, but he was still not looking forward to… this. This lie.

 _You fucking_ have _to stop thinking of it that way,_ Ned told himself savagely. Believing it, buying in, might save their lives. He did truly believe that, now. But both he and Nancy seemed to be having trouble with it.

When they had talked about whether their life was like it would be… they hadn't truly considered what that meant, and he understood that now. Playing house was one thing. But their house… was generic, not something they picked out, not something they would have wanted. Same with the cars. Ned had never seen himself as the kind of guy who would choose a pickup truck as his primary vehicle. Even Nancy's chosen career was one she could leave on a whim. It would have been perfect for her, between cases.

And she was between cases now, but this seemed to be less of a pause, and more of a permanent break.

Ned made a conscious effort, for at least half of his workday, to focus on who and what he was supposed to be and what that meant. Beyond fleshing out the empty spaces in his forged resume, beyond little camaraderie-building details like that Georgia Tech hat or an appreciation for sweet tea. If he broke this down into smaller tasks, if he just didn't look at the goal of it all, that final step of surrendering all that he was to a construct built from panic and fear for his own life…

He _had_ been afraid, of losing his life, of putting his loved ones in danger. And in the process he had continued to live, but he truly had lost all that made him who he was. All except Nancy.

Holding onto her and what they were had stopped him from fully becoming Richard, from finding ways that he could merge with this new identity. As soon as he realized it, Ned's eyes snapped open, and he felt a little dizzy.

And maybe that had happened to her too.

Ned had completely rejected the idea of playing married with some stranger, believing it to be a mockery of something he respected and wanted to have someday. He felt the same about what they had been thrust into. Her lie about being pregnant, well-meaning as it had been, had gotten them here. And ever since their arrival, he had been recalibrating himself to a set of lies, some large and some small, waiting for some logic to reassert itself and provide him with a clear path that would take him back home. That was all this had ever been.

Well, now, _this_ was his home, this ranch house in Egret Landing outside Atlanta, Georgia. He idled in the road before it, gazing at it. This small residence and the woman living inside with him.

Ned drew a long, deep breath. The desire that had been simmering between them had cooled a little over the past few days, as they had considered and struggled with the news that this wouldn't just be a handful of days longer. He wasn't naive enough to believe this would be it. They shared a bed. They shared their lives. He needed to find a way to make peace with it.

She was his wife. Diana was Richard's wife. This wasn't anything that needed dealing with.

 _It's not a crime for us to want each other._

Ned slowly pulled into the driveway. It was barely 6 p.m., and the height of summer; the sun was still up, though it was obscured behind layers of thickening clouds. Every night this week, the sound of rain hitting the roof had slowly soothed him to uneasy sleep. This night looked to be no different. Golden light spilled between the closed blinds; Nancy was home.

 _Diana_ was home.

No grilling out, not in this weather.

He smirked; he wouldn't be the one grilling, anyway. As soon as he opened the truck door, he smelled charcoal and fire drifting down from other houses near them. He had seen a few screened-in porches in the neighborhood, but he and Nancy didn't have one.

 _Diana._

Ned slammed the door harder than he intended, and winced. _His wife—_

 _his_ fake _wife—_

had said she would make something special for tonight. This fake six-month anniversary… well, neither of them was in the mood to celebrate. As far as Ned was concerned, the bottle of Merlot he had picked up a few days ago would be more than fine.

She was still wearing her wig when he walked in, and Ned fought the anger that hardened his muscles, encouraging him to yank it off and toss it away, to see _her_ underneath. She had mentioned that they might need to invest in a slightly longer one soon; otherwise her always neatly-trimmed hair might start to seem unnatural.

They had never thought it would be this long. Ned had never imagined having his first real job and being unable to celebrate it with his parents and other friends.

There was no one to take it out on, either. He refused to take it out on—her. It wasn't her fault. But it left him feeling incredibly frustrated.

Nancy came over to the table, which was already set, and placed a casserole dish on a trivet. "I guess we can do hot dogs and hamburgers on the Fourth, but…"

The corners of Ned's lips turned up, and his bad mood lightened a little. She had put out tortilla chips and queso dip, Spanish rice, and an enchilada casserole. "Smells delicious," he told her. "I'm gonna change. Do you want me to take your wig…?"

He couldn't have said what prompted the question, or what he expected her to do. She hesitated, then reached up and pulled off the wig carefully, handing it to him with a very small smile. "Thanks," she murmured.

The house really did smell great, he mused as he changed into a t-shirt and khaki shorts. His laundry was done every weekend, and the house was tidy. Ned felt proud of it, and of her. He wished he could show it off.

 _New friends. We have to make new friends. A new life._

It still hurt, still felt like he had been bruised and couldn't quite heal.

She came in while he was putting his sandals on, and when she came out of their bathroom, her eyes were restored to their usual sapphire blue. She gave him another small smile, but didn't speak before leaving again.

That affection she had shown him… oh, he had silently begged her to push him away, even as he exulted in her response to him, her acceptance. Now, after a few nights of feeling every inch between them in their bed, he _missed_ her. He missed the closeness he had loved and feared so much. On his way back to the dining area, he set the alarm on "stay," so the interior motion detector wouldn't trigger an alarm but the opening of any door or window would.

"How was your day?"

Nancy—she was undeniably Nancy now, the woman he had known and loved for so long—took the time to spread a napkin over her lap and take a deep breath before responding. "It sucked," she replied flatly.

Ned's stomach sank. Maybe she had been thinking hard about their situation today, too, and was frustrated. "What happened?"

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and reached for the sour cream. "So Otto…"

Ned relaxed slightly. Otto had been irritating her since she had begun her most recent assignment. At least that was one point in favor of temp jobs: annoying co-workers didn't have to be endured for long. According to her stories, Otto didn't really seem like a bad guy; he just liked to tell stupid jokes and overshare.

"So it's clearly a scam," she continued. "The company promises to send it, but it never comes. And I…" She sighed. "I told him I knew someone who had been fleeced, but he _completely_ blew me off. I'm just some stupid girl who doesn't know what she's talking about." She released her breath in a huff.

In his psychology class, Ned had learned about problem-solving versus commiserating. He considered what she had said and decided on the latter. "That sounds incredibly frustrating."

She nodded, and Ned smiled a little internally. He'd scored a point. "Back home, this wouldn't have happened."

Ned put his fork down and gazed at her. Her gaze was down, but her jaw was set, her shoulders tensed. He could well understand it; he had been struggling with it all day too, and he wasn't going to pretend he hadn't been. "I've been feeling that way all day," he said. "All _week_ , really. I've looked at it every way I can, but I can't figure out a way to change anything. Can you?"

She glanced up, and he saw her eyes light up before the nascent excitement died. "If we could go back to Illinois," she began, hesitantly, then glanced up at his face.

He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. He didn't want to yell at her; she wasn't an idiot. She knew just as well as he did what the stakes were.

She just sighed, then, trailing off without completing the sentence. "I fucking hate this," she said, and her breath caught in a sob at the edge of it. That tension in her face had given way to anger and frustration.

Ned reached over and touched her hand, and she tensed again before relaxing. "I think the worst part is not being able to do _anything_ ," he replied. "That I did the right thing and it feels like—we're both being punished for it. I reported a murder and lost almost everything. Bess is back there and I… this has to be absolutely awful for you. I know how much she means to you."

Nancy nodded, her expression miserable. "If we could just connect with someone on Chicago PD…" But she cut herself off with a sound of disgust.

"Then that person might be connected," Ned said, when she didn't. "And then we would have to pick up and leave. Find a hole and pull it in behind us."

She hesitated, picked up her fork again. "I guess the good news is that the feds didn't put us together because we made a more tempting target, apparently," she commented.

Ned shrugged. "And yet I still can't relax," he said. "I would have, if it were just me. But I have to provide for you and keep you safe."

Her brow immediately furrowed in protest, and she held her tongue with some effort. "I should probably start looking for something more permanent," she said, and she sounded so mournful that Ned felt it like a punch in the gut. "This is already hard enough without you having that kind of pressure on you."

"You're my wife." His voice was quiet but firm. "I'm not about to go all Neanderthal on you, chain you to the stove or any of that shit, but you don't need that kind of pressure on _you_ , either. Once my probation period is up, my boss will evaluate my work and I'll be eligible for a raise. That will make things easier."

She sniffled and looked into his face again. "Three months from your start date, right?"

He nodded.

She shook her head. "I just never thought it would be this long," she muttered.

Ned had thought the same thing several times, but hearing her say it somehow sounded like a rejection. He turned his attention back to his plate, but it took a few minutes for his appetite to return.

"Nan?" Ned almost savagely bit his tongue, but tamped down his temper and forgave himself the slip. "The wine?"

"Oh! _Shit!"_ She scrambled out of her chair and reached the refrigerator in a few long, rapid strides. A large pitcher was in her hands when she returned to the table. "Um, I made sangria. I hope that's okay."

Ned reached for her hand. She looked so sweetly anxious. "It makes me nervous when you seem so worried about it," he confessed. "Sangria sounds great. It's all right."

She glanced into his face and jumped up again, returning with two clean cups. "I guess I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For us to fight. For you to… realize that I'm no good at this."

Ned's eyes widened. "Are you kidding me?"

She shook her head, frowning. "I feel like I'm playing a part, badly," she confessed. " _All_ the time, not just with you. At work, even with Mia." She made a helpless gesture. "I've never had to lose myself before," she whispered.

Ned relaxed again. "I know exactly what you mean."

Her startled gaze met his. Her lips parted, her brow creased in a quizzical expression, but she didn't voice the question.

"I feel like I'm betraying everyone who knew me, when I imagine being _him_ all the time." Ned snorted. "Being Richard Nelson. Like I have to hold this perpetual candlelight vigil, to pay homage to the grief my parents and grandparents and all of them are feeling. Like that will fucking change anything." He shook his head. "We won't stop being who we are. I have to believe that. But if devoting ourselves to keeping one foot out the door means leaving us vulnerable, maybe wasting all this? It's not worth it. We'll—" He stopped himself. "When Taft said that we should put who we are in a box, keep it safe… it has to even be here, Nan. I think we can find a way, to be both. But we have to _be both._ We can't just stay in this fucking limbo anymore."

A tear streaked down her cheek, and she reached up to wipe it away. "But Bess," she whispered, choked with misery.

He could see it in her eyes, though. She was struggling with it, but she understood. "All we could possibly do is put her in more danger," he said gently. "This isn't a case. We _are_ the case. As much as it kills me, we _have_ to leave this to the feds."

She sniffled. Then she reached for him.

Ned pulled her onto her lap and held her tight. She buried her face against the side of his neck and her breath was warm against his skin, and some deep tension in him relaxed. He had missed this so much. He reached up and rubbed his hand over her spine in a firm stroke, up and down.

"I know," she whispered. "I just hate it."

"Me too."

They held each other silently for a long moment. Then she moved back and gave him another small smile. "Sorry."

He shook his head and stroked her back again. "Don't be," he said. "It's shitty. You should be mad."

Her smile grew wider. "Thanks."

The sangria was good. He had only tried it one other time, but it was sweet and fruity and hardly tasted like wine. He drank two glasses quickly, and even took a second helping of the casserole, with Nancy's encouragement.

"Hope you saved some room for dessert," she said as they cleared the table. "I made ice cream pie. I thought it would be a lot harder," she confessed.

Ned slid his arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "That sounds great," he told her. "Babe, you know that this… I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to cook all the time."

She turned an impish grin on him, her eyes sparkling. "I do if I want it to be edible," she teased him.

He gave her a small smile in return, but it was brief. "I'm not joking," he said gently. "It's a partnership, what we have between us."

Her smile faded. "I guess we should talk about that," she commented. "What it means."

He took the dishes out of her hands. "Here, I'll load the dishwasher. Have a seat. And bring the sangria to the living room, okay? That stuff is freakin' delicious."

She grinned. "I know, right? I can't even taste the wine in it."

When he joined her on the couch, she was flipping through the stations on the television. She settled on _Independence Day_ , which would likely be showing for the next few days straight, and thumbed the volume down. He cast a glance at it but ignored it, reaching for his refilled glass. He emptied half of it in a few gulps, as the first raindrops began to spatter against the back windows and the deck.

"God, it's good. You should definitely make it again."

She nodded. "So how are we going to be compromising?" She took another sip of sangria.

He raised one eyebrow. "I… dividing responsibilities," he said. "I _can_ cook a few things, you know. And wash clothes sometimes, and fold them, things like that."

She turned a wide smile on him. "Mia said something about that, about you expecting me to be your mom."

Ned's brows lowered. "Hey," he protested.

Nancy held up a hand to stop him. "No, no. She was talking about figuring things out, being newlyweds. But I realized that you already help out—no, not _help out_. That makes it sound like it's _my_ job and you're just doing me a favor. You treat it like something you _want_ to do. And I just really appreciate it."

Ned smiled. "Like I said. Part of being a husband."

She nodded, but her glance at him… it almost became more guarded, somehow. "What do I need to do, to be a wife?"

He shrugged and took another sip of the sweet wine. "It's not _doing._ Tell me when you're overwhelmed, when you need help. And… when you're upset, like you've been the past few days, talk to me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Like _you_ have."

He made an apologetic gesture. "Look, I think we've both been trying to sort through all this over the past few days. Admitting I'm disappointed makes it sound like I don't want to be with you, and I do very much want to be with you. Admitting that we're going to be here far longer than either of us planned is—I don't know. I've been taking all this a day at a time. But now I can't do that. I have to actually invest in this. And it's scary as hell."

"Yeah." She glanced down at her sangria.

Ned looked down at his own hand, the wedding band circling his finger, and felt his heart begin to thud painfully hard in his chest as he considered. "As to the other, you're being a great wife now. It's… it's just _you_ , Nan. Being around each other and sharing things and caring for each other."

"But hasn't it felt like we're playing house?"

"Yeah. Of course it has. Because we _have_." He reached over and took her hand. "Playing house is a game that will end. And I'm sure that a lot of newlyweds go through that too. Their parents' houses still feel more like home. The person on the other side of the bed is a stranger in some elemental way."

Nancy giggled suddenly. "You get really philosophical when you're drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Ned scoffed. "You haven't _seen_ me drunk."

"Yeah, I have." She took another sip of her sangria. "Not _recently_ , but I have. And you're getting there."

Ned gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Do you get what I'm saying, though?"

"Yeah." She smiled. "Okay. So you think we're past the playing-house phase, and we're ready to do this for real?"

"Almost."

"Oh?"

His heart was beating hard again. "I'll tell you later," he said. "Look, it's the best part."

They kicked back and finished off the sangria, laughing and groaning and cheering along with the movie, commenting and making jokes and quoting lines. Ned had seen it so many times that he actually _could_ quote lines along with the actors. The rain had become a steady, quiet shush.

"Mia said she and her husband are going to the beach near Savannah for the weekend. She invited us," Nancy commented, when she returned from a trip to the bathroom. Her usually fair skin was flushed, thanks to the wine. "Want some water?"

"Yeah. Here." Ned plucked an orange slice out of the sangria pitcher and ate the sweet wine-soaked pulp as he took the container to the kitchen. "I think a lot of the guys from work were heading to the beach, too."

"I told Mia maybe next time, when it was cooler. I didn't actually think… that we'd be following through." She shrugged as she dispensed ice into two glasses, then pulled out the water-filter pitcher. "She asked me what my 'thing' was, my hobby. I told her I didn't really have one." Nancy made a face. "I guess I'm gonna need to come up with one."

"You could tell her that it's something we really can't do around here. Like waterskiing or something."

Nancy considered, then gave her head a little shake as they walked back to the couch. "I guess I could say cooking," she said slowly.

"You are an incredible chef," Ned said loyally. "And believe me, my stomach is very much on board with that becoming your new hobby."

Nancy laughed. "Of course it is. You and your incredible appetite."

Generally, yeah. Lately, though… well, he'd had a lot on his mind.

The movie ended and began all over again. Ned leaned back, and his gaze found Nancy. His eye was always drawn to her, always. He hated that she had to hide who she was while they were here, far more than he needed. He had earned his degree, and his job here wasn't entirely unlike what he could expect to find in Chicago. But Nancy had never really settled into anything the way Ned had, other than solving mysteries. Oh, she was fantastic at a lot of other things, but nothing lit her up the way her cases did.

Sensing his gaze on her, Nancy turned to look at him. She gave him a slow, incredibly sexy grin as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "Hmm?"

He shook his head and wrapped his arm around her, slung over her shoulders. "When you said that maybe you should look for something more permanent. I was just thinking that you've been incredible at everything else I've seen you try. There's so much you could do."

She blushed prettily at the praise. "Oh, I don't know…"

Ned raised his eyebrows at her. "Says the woman who impersonated a professional tennis player when she was eighteen," he replied. "Who outwitted a killer in the wilds of Montana. I know that you're modest, but remember, I was _there_ for a lot of it. 'Doctor Drew.'"

She grinned, but her face relaxed as she began to consider. "For a second… I… I guess I really _can_ be anyone while we're here. I actually could start medical school, if I were accepted." She gave him an apologetic smile. "But I can't imagine getting through medical school, not while we're… this. Okay, it's taken me a few days to start to be okay with it, this might be… a few years." He saw tears rise in her eyes. "But I could take some classes. It just feels like they wouldn't count for anything once we're back."

He rubbed his thumb against her shoulder. "Well, first off, I think that if the feds could fake a few transcripts and recs for _this_ , they could pull some strings and make whatever you did here legit. Second, I don't know… maybe you could find something you really love. I hate that you can't be a detective while we're here, but you're an incredible woman. History, maybe? You've taken on some really interesting cases that involved that."

"Or something related to research," she said, glancing away as she let herself consider it. "Hmm."

Ned smiled as they settled in to watch the beginning of the movie, which they'd missed. The sweet haze of the wine lingered for a while, but as he finished his glass of water and took his and Nancy's to the kitchen for refills, he was just feeling relaxed and happy. After the nightmarish week they'd had, it was a welcome feeling.

Nancy was yawning when Ned returned to the living room. "Ready for bed?"

She shrugged. "I guess. Maybe if things dry out tomorrow, we can tackle the yard."

"Sure. I can't believe how much it's grown this week."

Nancy shook her head, reaching for the glass he was offering her. She drank a third of it, then reached up and placed her condensation-chilled palm against her cheek. "Am I flushed? I feel flushed."

"Yeah, a little. Don't worry, you still look cute."

She made a face at him, but took his hand to pull herself up. When she stumbled slightly, he slid his arm around her and she giggled. "I'm fine," she said, looking up into his face.

And it clicked for him again, that almost terrifying need. They searched each other's eyes and it felt like there was no air for a second. Just her.

She reached up and placed her still-damp palm against his cheek. Her lips parted, but she seemed unable to find the words, just as he was.

He leaned down, taking his time, giving her time to move away or protest if she didn't want this. But she tipped her chin up and met his kiss, slow and sweet. He pulled back reluctantly and she looked a little dazed, but her arms were tight around him, and his around her.

"Let's go to bed," he murmured.

* * *

Nancy was hyperaware of him as she brushed her teeth. Her body was responding eagerly to their kiss, and the result was an almost uncomfortable level of arousal. They were going to be in bed together, and her period was over…

And she wanted to be close to him again. They were in this for the long haul, now; they weren't just counting the days until they were back in Illinois. Nancy supposed a part of her always _would_ be, now, but it was like spotting what she had thought was the finish line and then discovering she was nowhere near it at all. Her disappointment had been unfathomable. She had just been too hopeful that the feds' case would have progressed a lot more rapidly, given Ned's evidence.

She would be delighted to return to Illinois and their family and friends. But she had put it away. She believed with all her heart that the day would come, but for now, it was hurting her more than it was helping to focus on that.

Before bed, just as she always did, Nancy took her bra off and dropped it into the dirty clothes hamper—at the end of a summer day here, her bra was _always_ at least damp with sweat—and sighed a little at the freedom. She had already pulled her reddish-gold hair up so it wouldn't curl against her neck as she slept; in the past week she had dreamed about going to the beach with Ned, frolicking in the water with him, and suddenly realizing with an unpleasant jolt that she had forgotten her wig, that she was exposed. It seemed like ages since she had been able to go out in public as _herself_ , without the weight of the wig, the slight irritation of her contact lenses. At least she had _this_.

Ned had finished preparing for bed before her, and was sitting at the foot of it, wearing only his boxers. He looked up at her when she walked in, and she saw a very quick expression cross his face.

He looked like he wanted to talk. Maybe he just wanted to continue their conversation.

He made a slight gesture and she sat down beside him, looking into his face expectantly. Sometimes she realized all over again that, for Ned, being a husband would at least be somewhat familiar for him. He had watched his parents for years. And at least theirs was a loving relationship. They had never argued in Nancy's hearing. When Ned imagined a marriage, he saw theirs.

And part of fully buying into all this was moving from pretending to actually treating each other as husband and wife. She just wasn't quite sure what he would expect.

"I need to do this," he said, gazing into her eyes. "And maybe it's ridiculous, but…" He shrugged. "But it's true."

He reached for her hand, and Nancy felt her heart beat harder. "I take you as my wife," he said, and Nancy gasped in a quiet breath, her eyes widening. "No matter your name, the color of your eyes or your hair, I take you as my wife. I promise that I will love you and cherish you and do all that I can to take care of you for the rest of my life. I'll be here to support you, no matter what. You're everything to me, sweetheart. I'll do all I can to protect you and make you happy."

He held her gaze for a moment, Nancy's heart pounding the whole time, and then he began to release her hand, glancing away. He had done what he needed to do.

But she gripped his hand a little tighter, and he looked into her eyes again. "I… take you as my husband," she said, and her voice wavered a little bit. She cleared her throat. "I'll do everything I can to be a good wife to you. I love you so much, Ned. I want—I'll support you and… I just love you so much."

He had looked so anxious, but as she spoke, his face relaxed into a small smile. "You've been amazing," he told her softly. "Are you sure? I'm being completely serious. I'd give you a ring, but… we already did that…"

She smiled, and her smile became a huge grin. "I mean every word," she said. "As clumsy and—I wish I could say it like you did. What you said was beautiful."

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly. "I had some time to practice," he pointed out. Then he reached for her and lifted her onto his lap, and Nancy's heart began beating faster again. "Do you understand? Has it been like this for you? I… when we thought that it wouldn't be so long, then yeah, it didn't make sense to… take this step. But if this is going to be our life together, then let's make it as real as we can. Let's go out with friends and— _do_ something with this life, instead of treading water. Let's build something together."

His dark eyes were so sweet and earnest. Nancy found herself nodding slightly, and made the gesture more obvious. "Yes," she agreed. "Okay. Yes."

Her arousal had never dissipated, and it flared back to life as he tilted his head and gave her a deep kiss. _You may now kiss the bride,_ she thought, and quiet laughter vibrated in her chest. As soon as Ned began to pull back, she pushed herself up, kissing him again, her breasts pressed against his bare chest. His skin was so warm through the thin ribbed fabric, and her nipples were already pebbled.

Ned's answering growl of arousal and need was familiar, but this time, when he stroked his hands down her sides, he caught the hem of her top in his fingers and began to pull it up. She released a soft, almost whimpering cry when they parted and he drew it up and over her head, leaving her naked save her panties and her engagement and wedding rings.

This was what being married meant. She had told herself that this might very well not happen until their wedding night… and now it was here. It was too soon; she was drowning, desperate, and she would do anything for him to keep going. Whatever that meant.

"Are you all right?" Ned was panting slightly.

She nodded. "Yes, yes," she breathed, and pushed him down. Ned laughed as she moved over him, her knees on either side of his hips, and his hands came up to stroke her sides.

"You're beautiful," he told her, gazing up into her eyes, and then his palm covered her breast. "Is this okay? Oh my God…"

She nodded twice. "Mmm," she moaned, her hips sinking toward his as her knees parted, his thumb brushing back and forth over her nipple. The sensation sent a delicious ripple of desire down her spine, down to the join of her thighs. "I want you," she murmured.

His gaze had slid down to her bare breasts. Now he brought his chin back up, his brown eyes meeting hers. "Are you sure?"

She nodded. His other hand came up, and she hissed quietly, her hips settling against his and the hardness she could feel there as he teased both her sensitive nipples. Then he began to caress her breasts with exploring strokes of his fingers and fingertips, and she opened her eyes. "Um, you know… I don't have any real… experience."

He nodded. "And I barely have any more than this," he reminded her. "I… if you're sure, I'll try to be really gentle with it."

"That would probably be good."

Ned chuckled, and then Nancy leaned down, brushing her lips against his in a teasing kiss. Ned deepened it immediately, still caressing and fondling her breasts.

"Mmm." She kissed his cheek, the corner of his lips, his earlobe, and began to stroke herself against him.

Ned groaned, and she felt it vibrate against her chest. "Baby," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

He reached down and began to slide her panties down, and Nancy shuddered before she moved off him, helping him take her underwear off. Then he reached for his boxers, but he paused.

"Babe, I don't—I don't have any condoms or anything." His gaze was steady on hers. "We can… well, we could just fool around some, and maybe tomorrow? Or I could run to the store right now?"

She had to laugh at his eagerness. He definitely looked like he would happily race to the nearest convenience store to buy some condoms. "Why don't we just fool around?" she said. "I don't want to stop. And tomorrow we can take our time…"

He searched her face, then gave her a little nod. "Okay. I'm gonna leave my underwear on, then… it'll make things easier."

She felt disappointed, but only a little. She wanted to see him; she wanted to be naked with him. And they would have time for that. She nodded, reaching for him.

He gave her a long, deep kiss, then stood. She moved under the covers and Ned turned off the bright overhead light, flipping on the bedside lamp.

Nancy's gaze slid down to his boxers, to the evidence of his arousal. "Can I see you?" she murmured, pushing the covers down, revealing herself. Ned's gaze immediately took her in. He was just as curious about her as she was about him. "I just… just for a minute."

He gave her a small, crooked smile, then touched the band of his boxers. "To be fair," he murmured.

She had only seen a few men naked: in a dirty magazine she had found while searching a suspect's room, in an image on someone else's computer that she had quickly closed, in a diagram in a biology textbook. The first two instances had been mortifying; the latter, she had treated as research. None of them had prepared her for the sight of Ned, beside the bed they shared, watching her with an expression of mingled excitement, nervousness, and pride.

"Come here," she murmured, patting his side of the bed. Her gaze kept traveling from his face to his nakedness, to that part of him she had never seen before. She didn't miss that he kept doing the same, drawn to that secret, always-covered part of her.

He obeyed her, leaving the sheet and comforter drawn down, facing her across the pillows. "I think it'd be best if we weren't _both_ naked at the same time," he commented.

She looked up into his face, a faintly skeptical expression on her own. "Just being naked in the same bed doesn't mean we _have_ to have sex," she pointed out. "I mean, clearly we have _some_ self-control."

Ned snorted. "We're both a little buzzed," he replied. "We just, kinda, got married. And seeing you lying there, hearing you say the word 'sex,' well, it's doing things to me."

She fluttered her eyelashes at him briefly, and when he released a full, genuine laugh, an answering warmth spread over her belly, her already-sensitive breasts. "What kind of things?" she asked, and then she reached for him.

His laughter trailed off with a soft hiccup as her fingertips brushed against him. Her gaze shot up to his face. "I—does it hurt?"

Ned made a quiet strangled sound when she touched him. "That's not _exactly_ the word," he joked weakly. "Uh… you've never done anything like this before?"

She shook her head.

He reached for her hand and very gently pushed it away. "But—do you understand the mechanics of all this?"

She shrugged. "Knowing the words isn't the same as really _knowing_ ," she commented.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, and when she reached for him again, caught her wrist in the cage of his fingers. "So I'm _incredibly_ aroused right now."

She raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that good?"

He laughed, but it sounded strange. "Want me to show you... how to touch me?"

She nodded eagerly.

It was very strange; he began to groan and she gazed at his face, then what their hands were doing, trying to learn. "Just like that," he forced out, releasing her hand, and she kept stroking him the way he wanted.

"Faster," he begged her.

She felt a tingling over her skin, in her nipples, between her legs as she stroked him. She felt powerful. Ned looked almost pained; he kept gasping, but he was making small encouraging noises too.

"Oh!"

She watched what happened, to see what it was like for him. It left him gasping, but he seemed happy. She kept her hand on him and realized that the tension, the hardness, in him was starting to relax.

Slowly she released him, then rose and went to the bathroom. She thoroughly washed her hands, then made a soft sound and ran water over a washcloth. Next time, she told herself, she would take a shower before this so she was clean and smelled sweet. Tonight, she settled for a quick sponge bath, just in case. She didn't want Ned disgusted by her.

When she returned to the bedroom, Ned was cleaning himself up too, using tissues from the box beside the bed. "Hmm?" he asked.

She smiled and rejoined him in the bed. "Did I do okay?"

"It was _great_ ," he told her earnestly. "Seriously. I mean it."

"Good." She turned onto her side, facing him. "So when I felt you under your clothes…"

"Uh… hmm?"

"I just didn't know… what it looked like."

"Do you like it? The way it looks? I mean—it looks better when I'm aroused, but…"

"You think so?"

Ned's mouth opened, but nothing came out. "I… doesn't it?"

She smiled. "It's strange," she told him honestly. "And I'm not saying that 'cause I've seen a lot of guys naked, because I haven't. It's just strange when I look at me. All I've ever really seen is the way _I_ look naked."

"You look beautiful," he told her.

She shook her head. When she turned onto her back, she flushed in hyperawareness again—especially when Ned's gaze locked onto her. "It just looks odd. I guess both of us look odd." She made a frustrated noise. "Not like something's wrong, just…"

"Different from everything else." Ned scooted closer to her, and she blushed. "Uh, can I… touch you?"

"Yeah." She tried to keep her voice from trembling. "Just be gentle?"

He nodded, and when he sat up, she shivered. Being with him like this… she was very vulnerable, in a way she had never been vulnerable before.

Then he began to gently explore her, with cautious strokes of his fingertips. Nancy heard a soft moaning sound and realized it was coming from her own throat; she closed her hand into a fist, staring at Ned, watching his expression. He looked curious and… happy.

He kept touching her until she was quivering with pleasure, and leaned down over her.

"Mmm. Good?"

"Yes," she panted. " _More._ "

Ned chuckled, but he obeyed, and Nancy screamed as she reached a climax that wiped out the whole world for her, all except Ned. She babbled something, desperate for him to keep touching her, greedy for the erotic rush of it. She whined at the loss when he stopped touching her.

Then he lowered himself to her, and she closed her eyes at the feel of his body.

"Do you like this?"

She nodded immediately. "You feel so good," she whispered. "Maybe we look funny separately but this feels _so good_ …"

He smiled, and she saw the pride flicker in his eyes. "So my beautiful wife likes this?"

"Very, very much," she purred. " _Especially_ like this. Mmm."

Ned lowered his face to hers, and the kiss they shared was slow and erotic, his tongue thrusting in her mouth. She wrapped her arm around him, sliding her fingers into his hair and giving a possessive tug.

"Mine," she told him, panting softly, when they broke the kiss. "You're the only one. The only one I'll ever want this with."

He nodded, searching her eyes. "I love you so much," he murmured.

Nancy's breath caught. She couldn't speak it, but she knew—she understood, and she nodded. "I love you too," she whispered. "Forever, Ned. Yes."

Her heart, already warm and aglow with love, softened even more when the question still lingered in his eyes. He was giving her time, she realized, as he slowly moved into position. They had no condoms. If they did this, it would be unprotected.

She had just finished her period. They should be safe.

"Yes," she repeated.

Then he was making love to her, and he lowered his head, his breath warm against her shoulder. Nancy was so tense, and she closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, willing herself to relax.

Oh, oh God…

"Shh." He nuzzled against her. "Slow and gentle, right?"

"Yes," she sighed in relief. She moaned quietly, consciously forcing her muscles to loosen.

Ned groaned.

"Is it okay?" she whispered, her voice small.

"If you mean this—" He flexed his hips. "It is _far, far_ better than okay. Oh my God, baby. You feel incredible."

She smiled. "Good," she whispered.

"Have you ever felt anything like this before? I mean, have you…"

She looked up at him. "There has never been anything like this," she told him. "I never knew it was supposed to be this way. That we would fit together like this…"

He kissed her, and she moved against him when he shifted his weight. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

And he took it slow, responding to the quiet sounds she made, when she gasped in pain, when she moaned in pleasure. After the shock of the first time, the soreness faded. She gazed up at him, and when he looked into her eyes too, a shock jolted through her, of recognition, of—

Home. Together, they were home.

She moaned again, gazing deeply into his eyes, watching him as he made love to her for the first time. She had no words, for how it felt. It was strange and intense and so, so deeply vulnerable, and so _right_.

They found a rhythm together, slow and deep, and tears rose in her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her.

Then Nancy tipped her head back, sucking in a breath so hard it almost sounded like a breathless scream.

"Yes," Ned whispered before he kissed her again.

She was lost. She was already awash in sensation too intense to fully comprehend, and she began to cry out, needy and desperate, overwhelmed. She wanted to grind against him, begging for more; she wanted to relax and just _feel_.

"Baby…"

It was his voice. Nancy released a sobbed cry, wrapping her arms around him, obeying the impulse to fold her legs around him and hold him to her.

And then he cried out, a sound of possession and mastery and abandon. If he had claimed her, she had claimed him too.

Even after, she was still sobbing quietly, whimpering as she trembled. Ned moved slowly, releasing a soft inquisitive sound. He laid down beside her and drew her into his arms, stroking her back and her hair, making soft soothing sounds.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

She shook her head, nuzzling against him. "You didn't," she whispered. "It didn't. It's just… so much."

"Yeah." He kissed her temple, her cheek. "Are you all right?"

She moved back to look into his eyes, and nodded firmly. "Yeah," she whispered. "Are you?"

He nodded. "That's not quite the word, but it'll work," he said, and gave her a small smile before brushing a damp strand of hair from her cheek. "That was incredible."

She smiled. "I'll be better next time," she vowed.

Ned laughed. "No, _I_ will," he said, and began to move so they could slide under the covers together. "In the meantime, though… are you going to take a shower in the morning?"

She saw the gleam in his eye and swatted at him, blushing. "You're awful."

He pulled her to him, sliding his leg between hers, tangling them together in a way she hadn't had the nerve to try on the other nights. "I'm just imagining how sexy you would look in the shower," he murmured, stroking his hand down her back to rest on her bare ass. "Besides, we should do our part to save the planet and conserve water by showering together."

She snorted. "And take a shower three times as long in the process," she replied. "Having sex and then having to wash off again…"

"Your point?"

She giggled as she nuzzled against him, marveling all over again at how they seemed to fit together. This was real. It felt like a dream, a fantasy she had hardly dared let herself imagine, but it was real. "Love you," she murmured.

"Love you too," he whispered.


	10. Chapter 10

She wasn't sure if it was her phone's alarm or the feeling that she was being watched that truly woke her.

"Stop it," Nancy mumbled, blindly reaching for her phone on the bedside table. "I can't go back to sleep if you're going to stare at me like that."

"Sorry. Just wanted to check on you before I went for my run." Ned's hand brushed against her forehead. "Hm, not warm."

The alarm stopped, and Nancy opened her eyes to see Ned placing her phone back down, next to a mug that hadn't been there the night before.

"Tea," he answered her silent question. "How are you feeling? Mia won't mind if you cancel."

"Better. It must have just been something I ate," she said. "I promise I'll tell Mia I want to go home if that starts to change."

"I'd take insult to that if it wasn't for the fact that you started feeling sick _before_ I made dinner last night." Ned eyed her critically for a moment, assessing the truth behind her claim. "In that case, you'd better get up," he said reluctantly. "I hit snooze on that alarm twice already."

Nancy stretched before sitting up and reaching for the mug. She murmured her thanks as she took a sip. "Next time, remind me I how much I hate having to get up this early."

Chuckling, Ned leaned down to brush a kiss against her forehead. "But then we wouldn't have all of your great finds."

Ever since Mia dragged her to a yard sale a couple months ago, they'd made it a semi-regular thing. According to Mia, it was the perfect way to ease into meeting neighbors. Nancy was hardly eager to become well-known around the neighborhood, but at least Mia's outgoing personality made her the more memorable one between the two of them.

She truly enjoyed Mia's company, though, and the mornings they spent scouring their neighbors' abandoned junk for diamonds in the rough were worth the extra sleep she might be missing out on. Nancy discovered she had a talent for finding great marked-down pieces that just needed a little work, and she was surprised at how much she enjoyed fixing them up. Mia was excited to finally figure out Nancy's _thing_ , and Nancy was more than happy to let her think it was true. So far she had sanded down, re-stained, and re-planed a once-wobbly handmade bookcase, fixed a neat floor lamp with two bulbs that just needed a minor cord repair, and happily lugged home a vintage gossip chair with a seat requiring some re-upholstering. She still wasn't sure what she would do with that one, but she had fallen in love with it.

"I think Mia wants to go for lunch. But we're still on for the hardware store, right?"

"You bet. It's my turn to pick a color."

They were slowly starting to decorate the house, to make it _theirs_ instead of the anonymous beige meant for quick resale. It was a small comfort, but the newly sunny yellow walls of the kitchen reminded her of cooking lessons with Hannah and mornings with her father, swapping sections of the newspaper over breakfast.

"We'll see about that. Love you," she said, tugging gently on his shirt to pull him closer for another kiss. Eyeing his black ribbed sleeveless tank and moisture-wicking athletic shorts, she couldn't resist teasing him. "You know the idea is to blend in, not stand out. Can't you put on a few more layers?"

Ned raised an eyebrow. "I could if you wanted me to overheat and pass out."

"Fine, go give all the housewives a show." She grinned, releasing her hold on his shirt.

"Too bad for them. I only have eyes for my wife."

* * *

The feeling she was being watched returned that afternoon.

"Have you ever thought of dyeing your hair? I bet a lighter color would look really nice with your complexion."

Nancy looked up from her plate of salad to see Mia scrutinizing her closely, too closely. "Uh, no. Not really."

In truth, she had. It'd be so much easier to dye her hair instead of having to deal with the wig every day. She'd only been given the wig because the agents thought she was pregnant. She was pretty sure she no longer had to keep up the pregnancy ruse with them, though.

At their last check-in, they had eyed her midsection curiously, but said nothing. Nancy could tell from the sympathetic frowns that they assumed Nancy had miscarried. Her stomach dropped every time she thought of the lie. She hated using a tragedy like that for her own benefit. But the life she and Ned were creating together—she couldn't imagine what her life would be now if they'd never been placed together, if she had never been told he was still alive. That thought sent a horrified cold shiver down her spine.

Yes, dyeing her hair would be easier. But she couldn't bring herself to fully turn herself into Diana in that way. She would gladly deal with the annoying wig as long as it meant getting to see Ned's eyes light up every time she took it off and shook out her real hair.

"It was just a thought." Mia turned her attention back to her own plate. "You know, it's too bad you didn't find anything today."

Nancy shrugged her shoulders, throwing Mia a smile. "Just as well. Ricky and I are going to pick up paint later. Our bedroom is next on the list."

Mia's eyes lit up. "Can you bring me back some paint samples? Some pastels would be nice, for a bedroom."

"Sure. Planning on doing some of your own redecorating?" Her interest rose as Mia bit her lip in indecision.

"Sort of." Mia grinned. "I have a secret. But you have to promise not to tell Alex I told you."

"Of course. Now, c'mon. Don't keep me in suspense."

Mia's smile widened as she placed her hands over her abdomen. "I'm pregnant!"

"W-wow," Nancy stuttered. "Congratulations!"

"Thanks," Mia beamed. "I'm still a week away from my second trimester. I made Alex promise not to tell his family until then, and here I am, blabbing away. I'm just too happy to keep it to myself, though."

"Your secret is safe with me," Nancy promised.

"I know it's early still, but I'm eager to get started on ideas for the nursery." She blushed. "Okay, so maybe I already have a few. We decided to start trying when we moved here. Neither of us thought it'd happen so fast. As soon as I realized I was late, I was starting to think of themes."

Nancy speared a piece of cucumber on her fork and began to lift it to her mouth. When Mia's comment sunk in, the fork slipped from her fingers, clanging against the plate.

"Are you okay?" Mia asked, concerned.

"I just realized _I'm_ late." Nancy flushed as she realized she had said the words out loud, her gaze flying to Mia's face. Mia was her closest friend in this new life, other than Ned, but Nancy knew she could absolutely never tell her the truth. This felt uncomfortably close to the truth.

She was never late. Even with the stress of their forced relocation and new life, she'd never missed her period. Until now.

"Oh," Mia said softly. "I'm pretty sure I have some extra tests left at the house, if you want them." When Nancy didn't respond, she added, "Is this… Would it not be a good thing for you?"

"I don't know," Nancy answered truthfully. Then she shook her head, forcing herself to pick up her fork again and put a smile on her face. "I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe I've just lost track of the days or something."

Mia's gaze was still sympathetic when Nancy glanced up at her again. "Then at least taking the test would give you some peace of mind," she pointed out. When she changed the subject a moment later, Nancy was so relieved she practically slumped in her seat.

Every fiber of her being was telling her that if there _was_ a wrong time, this was definitely it.

A week later, the tests Mia gave her were still hidden in the bottom of her purse. She knew it was time to finally take one when she all but ripped her purse out of Ned's hands when he went searching for gum. She lost count of how many times he'd asked her in the past week if she was okay. Each time she tried to assure him she was, the look he gave told her he didn't believe it. She just didn't know how to talk to him about this, if there even was a _this_ at all.

 _It's just stress_ , she told herself as she set the timer on her phone. She sat down on the edge of the tub, intentionally placing the stick next to her where she couldn't stare at it, waiting to see if one or two lines would appear in the appropriate window.

There was a significant chance she really was pregnant. Other than their first night—and morning—together, she and Ned had always been careful about using condoms. She knew that condoms weren't one hundred percent effective, though—a fact her father had made sure she understood during his awkward birds-and-bees talk. She had considered going to the doctor to get a birth control prescription, but that had been a step that seemed too real, especially after the lie she had told the feds.

This, though… If she and Ned were to have a baby, they'd be sealing their fate. There was no way either of them would put their child at risk. There would be no toeing the line, no potential slip-ups. Oh, she and Ned might have fully committed to each other, but they were still themselves. That was a luxury they couldn't afford if they were parents. She couldn't imagine a child understanding why Mommy's hair looked different at home or why Mommy and Daddy called each other by different names—and if he or she innocently slipped, repeating something said in the privacy of their home that might jeopardize all of them... Oh God, to raise a child in this lie...

Her phone vibrated against her thigh, and she took a deep breath before picking up the test.

* * *

Ned climbed out of the truck cab and slammed the door behind him, then took the short walk up the drive to the mailbox. In the distance he could hear the crack of bats at the nearby ballpark, the unintelligible shouts of parents and teammates at the little league games. During her yard-sale ventures, Nancy had started noticing Halloween decorations going up in some of the other yards in the neighborhood. One of them had gone all-out, complete with cheesy fake spiderwebs, blinking purple and orange lights, and glow-in-the-dark ghosts. A life-sized witch figure had been propped up in the rocking chair on the front porch, beside a cauldron that perpetually spilled a dry-ice mist. Oversized fake spiders had been perched in the front shrubs, and the lights in the plastic jack-o-lanterns clicked on with military precision at the onset of dusk.

Nancy and Ned had agreed that they would pass out candy to the trick-or-treaters; there was something about the idea that felt both wonderfully adult and incredibly playful, to answer the door and ask about costumes, to distribute candy into buckets and bags. Neither of them had wanted to go crazy with Halloween decorations, though. They had gone to the local craft store on a day that Nancy was feeling well, and had joked and teased each other as they tried on masks and played with articulated skeletons on display. In the end they had settled on a skeletal fluttering ghost that Ned strung up between two posts on their front porch, a wreath made of fall foliage, miniature pumpkins, and acorns, and a trio of hand-carved jack-o-lanterns. Ned's suggestion that they pick up a few bags of miniature candy bars and treats in preparation had ended just as both of them had known it would: with only a couple of the rejected pieces left at the bottom of the bowl, and candy wrappers dumped into the kitchen trash can by the dozen.

Ned had begun to wonder if the heat would ever break. Now, as Halloween neared, the temperature was finally starting to drop just a little, and he could feel fall coming. He both welcomed it and resented it. The changing of the seasons was another reminder of what they had left behind, and what he was missing back in Illinois.

Ned snickered as he sorted through the mail. A part of him was always terrified that he would find an envelope or postcard addressed to Ned Nickerson or Nancy Drew in the box, but he was far more likely to find credit card and car dealership offers. As far as the feds could tell, they were still safely, completely under the radar. Thank God.

"Hey, babe. Where are you?" Ned called out as he shut the front door behind him. He'd noticed all the blinds were closed when he pulled into the driveway, a sure sign that Nancy would be greeting him, not Diana.

"Kitchen!"

A delicious aroma hit him as he started heading her way. It was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. "Whatever you're making smells like home." He found her in front of the stove, and wrapping his arms around her from behind, he peeked over her shoulder to see what she was stirring. "Mmm, garlic mashed potatoes."

"And there's a pot roast in the oven. I found a recipe online. Definitely won't be as good as your mom's, but I figured I'd give it a try."

"What did I do to deserve this treat?" Ned placed a kiss at the crook of her neck. Ever since they'd committed to each other and their relationship, ever since they had started having sex, he had become much more comfortable with this. He could be close to her, now; he didn't have to hide how attracted he was to her, and her response to him was eager and happy. At least, it usually was.

Nancy spun around suddenly, tears in her eyes. "Ned." She launched herself into his arms, sobs wracking her body.

"Whoa—what's wrong, Nancy?" Rubbing her back comfortingly, he quickly turned the stove and oven off before moving them to the living room. He sat down on the couch, pulling Nancy onto his lap, concern creasing his brow. He hadn't seen her so upset in a very long time. "Please, baby, tell me what's wrong. Did something happen? Do you think someone made us?"

She shook her head. "Baby. It's not safe." Another sob. "We're alone. No help."

"Why aren't we safe?"

"Not us." Nancy picked her head up from his shoulder to look him in the eyes. "Our baby."

"Baby?" Ned's eyes widened. "You're—we're going to have a baby?"

She nodded, confirming his question, and Ned's entire world seemed to shift. He hardly knew what to think, but she was clearly upset, and he didn't want to upset her further. _A baby?_ "They're going to know I was never pregnant before. It's too soon. I know it is."

He didn't care what the agents thought. "So we tell them it was a false positive before. And that you are now." He hesitated. "You're sure?"

Nancy nodded. "I'll have to go to the doctor to confirm, but after I took the first test and it was positive, I went to the store for more. They're all positive."

"Hey," he said, wiping her falling tears. "We're going to make this work."

"I want this," she said quietly. "But I want this at home, where we have our families to help us out. And we won't be worried every time our child is out of our sight that Marc's family is going to get him or her."

"I know this isn't ideal, Nancy, but we're going to be a family. I always knew you'd be the mother of my children one day. That day may be coming sooner than we thought, but I love you, and I already love this little baby." He put his hand against her stomach.

"I love you too." She placed her hand over his. "This baby is going to be so lucky to have you."

"Let's just hope it looks like me. Otherwise, we'll have a tough time explaining the hair and eyes." That earned him a smile from Nancy.

"At least we already have a crib."

Ned laughed. "True. We also have each other. That's how I know everything will be okay."

"I should go finish dinner," Nancy said, moving to get up.

"In a minute." Ned pulled her closer. "It'll keep. I want to enjoy this for a minute longer."

She rested her head against his shoulder again. "We have to get home," she whispered.

Ned closed his eyes and rubbed his hand up and down her back again. The last time they had met with the feds, Nancy and Ned had been assured that progress was being made on the case, but it was tedious and agonizingly slow. There were no guarantees about when they would be back in Illinois… if ever. He knew he would be terrified, once this truly sank in, but… he and Nancy had made a baby. Somehow, despite how careful they had mostly been, there was a baby.

And this would be their baby's home.

And then Ned's face was buried in the crook of her neck and his lips were against her skin, tasting her. She whimpered, but she was already straddling his lap, and she wasn't moving away from him.

"We are home," he whispered. "For now, together, we're home. This is why you've been feeling sick?"

"Yeah." She nuzzled against him, and he could feel the firm weight of her breasts pressing against his chest. "I'm sorry. I know neither one of us wanted this to happen, not now. And I don't know how…" She sniffled. "I thought we were being so careful…"

"Me too." He slipped his hand under her shirt, at the small of her back, and let it drift up to the closure of her bra. It wasn't as though she hadn't been pregnant even this morning or last night, but he felt a sudden curiosity, a need to see her and claim her all over again, to find the signs that her body was changing to nurture their baby…

His child. They had joined and their love had made a life, and that knowledge was absolutely staggering.

She helped, once he began to slide her clothes off, and soon she was naked and lying down on their couch, one hand above her head and resting against the arm of the couch. Her eyes were still a little puffy from her tears. She moaned softly, drawing one knee up, the sole of her foot against the couch cushion, as he began to trace her curves. There was no gentle rounding to her belly yet, and Ned thought that he was only imagining that her breasts might be slightly bigger, but he vowed to do this as often as she'd let him. He didn't want to miss a single second or sign.

Ned's eyes widened as he glanced up into her face. "Are you feeling bad now?"

She smiled slightly. "Scared and a little sick and excited," she said. "This… means growing up. So far I just feel like I've been faking it."

"Yeah." He gently drew his palm down and over her belly, in slow circles. "Anything you want, anything at all… you know I'll give you. Anything at all. If you're craving Oreos at three o'clock in the morning..."

She reached up and cupped his cheek, urging him to look at her. "You're happy," she whispered, almost as though she couldn't believe it.

He nodded. "Did you think I wouldn't be?"

She shrugged slightly. "I've barely started to figure out how to be a wife. I have no idea how to be a mother."

He held her gaze and lowered his face to her belly, pressing a lingering, gentle kiss against her bare skin. "We'll figure it out," he said. "Baby, after all we've been through… maybe nothing is going to be exactly as we dreamed, but when I think of everything else that could have happened, maybe we're just where we were meant to be. And it will work out, sweetheart. I know it will."

She gazed into his eyes for a long moment. Then she drew him to her, on top of her, and he loved her with the sweet reverence of having found his home. When they were both panting, when she was rubbing against him and almost driving him crazy, he gently rolled them over so he was on his back and she was perched over him.

She was still a little nervous, doing this, but she breathed out a whimpering sigh. "Ned," she whispered. "Oh, honey…"

He kept stroking her, teasing her breasts, caressing her hips. His stomach tensed for a second as he realized what was different this time—he hadn't been inside her without a condom since their first night and morning-after together—but _now_ , it was all right.

The mother of his child. Ned gazed up at her, his throat thickening. Of course she was afraid. Everything about their life together had been terrifying, at first, but at least some of it was in their control. _This_ …

And then she cried out, her face and chest flushed. Ned moved with her, holding himself back with effort. He didn't want to hurt her or make her uncomfortable. But he cried out too, one hand gripping her hip.

After, she collapsed against him, panting, her skin damp. Her reddish-gold hair was longer now, and it spilled against his chest. Ned sighed in contentment, then rested his palm against her back.

"Mmm," she murmured finally. "Guess we can save money on condoms now, huh."

Ned chuckled. "See? You're already thinking positive," he told her. "This has already been incredible, and we still have a pot roast…"

Nancy pulled back to look into his eyes and grinned, then shook her head. "You're so predictable," she murmured.

He shook his head, holding her gaze. His palms cupped her hips. "And you're nothing I could ever have predicted," he told her. "But your heart… I know your heart. I know _you_. You are fierce and determined and brave and incredible. And that's the kind of mother you'll be."

Her blue eyes gleamed with tears, and she leaned down to press a kiss against his lips. "There's no one else in the world I'd rather share this with," she whispered. "I love you, Ned Nickerson."

"And I love you."


	11. Chapter 11

Ned stopped at the garage door and muttered everything he would need under his breath: his "winter" jacket, which would have been woefully inadequate for a December day in Chicago but was just fine here in Georgia; his wallet; his car keys. Normally Nancy was here to help him remember everything, but she had left for her current temp assignment before his alarm had gone off. He remembered the brush of her lips against his cheek and a soft caress against his shoulder before she had headed out, and he had only roused long enough to murmur "Love you" before falling asleep again.

God, he loved her. She had even left him three strawberry muffins for breakfast.

"Lunch," he exclaimed, and bolted toward the fridge. Last night he and Nancy had put together a spaghetti dinner, something quick and easy. Nancy was starting to feel better, but she was still cautious about what she ate; for about a week, all that she had been able to keep down had been mashed potatoes.

Ned took out the Tupperware container holding the generous serving of spaghetti left over, the pasta and meat sauce topped with shredded parmesan, and two thick slices of garlic cheese toast wrapped in foil. His co-workers had teased him at first about his enormous brought-from-home lunches, but he and Nancy were doing all they could to conserve and save money. A baby Nickerson was growing in her womb, after all.

A baby Nelson.

Ned glanced into the living room as he slotted his lunch into an insulated bag. His parents, or more particularly his mother, went all-out when decorating for Christmas; Ned had never considered how much all of it cost, mostly because she reused almost everything from year to year. He and Nancy had picked out a modest live tree over the weekend, and then decided on gold and red for decorations: gold ribbon and miniature white lights were twined around the tree, and sparkling red globes hung from many of the branches. Two red-and-gold stockings hung from the mantel above the gas fireplace, and a stuffed, rosy-cheeked Santa was tucked into a corner of one couch. They didn't have any of the familiar ornaments, the miniature snow-blanketed village scenes, the holly-bedecked kitchen towels and oven mitts, the cranberry-scented candles, or the rest, the decorations Ned had helped his parents put up every year and then store in the attic once the season was over. Ned and Nancy had placed a green fir wreath on their front door with a red velvet ribbon tied in a jaunty trailing bow, and Nancy had wrapped lit garland around the porch railing. She hadn't had a lot of energy for much else, and Ned hadn't wanted to dip into their baby fund for more decorations.

This would be what their child would see for his or her first Christmas, next year.

Ned didn't know how he was supposed to feel about it. He knew how he _did_ feel, though. Imagining raising a child without his parents or Nancy's father or Hannah around was more than a little terrifying, and he was pretty sure that he and Nancy were only keeping their calm because they had agreed to just not talk about it, to focus on what they _could_ do, to check out used bookstores for parenting books, to find what they could at secondhand shops and yard sales.

Ned's longing for _home_ was tangible, and sometimes it hurt so much that he just couldn't think about it at all. Instead he gazed at his wife and remembered yet again that while he would have done anything to change the circumstances, he had been given a version of the life he had always wanted. Nancy was here with him, they were in love, and she was carrying their child.

Before he left, he jotted a note and left it for her on the fridge. She would be home before he was, if she didn't need to work overtime. He had begged her not to. The last thing he wanted was for her to overexert herself, especially under the circumstances.

He cast one last glance around and activated the alarm system before leaving.

* * *

Nancy's finger hovered over the silver oval button on the phone system. Twice, now, she had hit the wrong button when trying to put a call on hold. She pressed her lips together and decided, then sighed in relief when she heard the familiar double-beep that meant she had made the right choice.

"Got the hang of it, Di?" Rudy flashed her a grin. Rudy had trained her in almost everything on the front desk, and almost every day he brought treats to share with her. He was one of the nicest guys she had worked with during her temp assignments.

"Yeah, I think so." Nancy shoved a lock of her wig out of her face and smiled back at him. She wore black scrubs with candy-cane-striped trim; she was glad that the top was a little loose around her belly. Although her obstetrician had assured her that it was safe for her to tell other people she was pregnant now, since she had safely finished her first trimester, she still felt protective about it. Mia knew, but Mia had suspected her new friend was pregnant for months now, and was incredibly excited that their babies could have play dates. As far as Nancy was concerned, though, no one else needed to know.

The people she most wanted to know… couldn't.

Nancy put that out of her mind. Every day she had to fight her impulse to do _something_ to help the case, in terms of research or contacting possible sources, or even reaching out to Bess to make sure she was all right. But she was no longer the reckless young woman who had set out to find the people responsible for her boyfriend's murder. She had a husband and a growing child to consider.

But that made her even more impatient to get home. She needed Hannah and Edith. She needed someone to help her. In less than a year, if everything proceeded well with her pregnancy, she would be a mother.

Nancy had no idea how to be a mother. Ned was so reassuring, but she knew that he was scared too, and that scared _her._ He was her rock through all this, and she loved him so much.

Rudy walked up with a checkout sheet. "All right. Mrs. Patterson's ready. You got this?"

"Yep." Nancy nodded, reaching for it.

The women's clinic where she was temping handled everything from routine physicals to Pap smears, gynecological exams and obstetric exams, mammograms, births. It wasn't the women's clinic that Nancy herself used, for which she was grateful. God, she had been so nervous during her first visit, waiting for someone to look up at her and declare that her identification had been forged, that her insurance card had been declined. That hadn't happened. As far as they knew, she was Diana Nelson, a woman about to celebrate her first anniversary with her husband Ricky.

Mrs. Patterson placed her enormous metallic-gold purse on the counter and shuffled through it, looking for her wallet. "Everything good?" she asked Nancy. "Oh, I love the candy-cane on your scrubs!"

"Thanks," Nancy said with a smile. "Yes, everything's good."

Two women had been in that week for pregnancy tests. Of course they were pretty sure that they were probably pregnant, thanks to missing their periods. One had been accompanied by her male partner, and another by an overjoyed, also pregnant female friend. They had been so excited, so eager to receive their results. Nancy very vividly remembered dreading hers.

It wasn't that she didn't want this baby. It was just a blessing she hadn't been ready for, not yet.

A dark-haired woman approached the reception desk right after Nancy returned for lunch, and signed in. Her face was drawn, and she kept her head down. After she had signed in, she glanced around the waiting room, then selected a seat far away from anyone else. Immediately she took out her cell phone and started scrolling.

Nancy took the clipboard and looked up the name in the system. She found a close hit, but the birthdate didn't match.

"Lynn?" Nancy called. The woman glanced up, and when Nancy beckoned her up, she approached the desk again. "I'm not finding you in our system. Are you…"

"Oh. I guess I'm new?"

"Oh, okay. Well, here's a clipboard, and I'll need a photo ID and your insurance card. Fill this out and bring it right back."

Lynn nodded and took the clipboard, and Nancy scanned in her ID and insurance card. Entering in a new patient meant going through a few screens, and Nancy took the clipboard once Lynn had returned it.

 _Reason for today's visit: pregnancy test_

Nancy very nearly glanced over at her, but stopped herself at the last second. She felt intense, immediate sympathy for the young woman, who clearly seemed upset.

Lynn had to wait for the physician's assistant to fit her in, and when she walked to the back, she was frowning. Maybe she had taken a home test and was just hoping it was wrong. Nancy knew how that was. She picked up one of the peanut butter cups Rudy had given her at lunch and took a bite.

"All right, we have Lynn Broome. She'll need a follow-up." Rudy handed over her sheet after Nancy had checked out three other patients.

"Oh." Nancy checked over her sheet. She would be coming back in for a scan in a few weeks. Apparently the test had been positive.

Lynn approached her a moment later. Tears were gleaming in her eyes, and she was fumbling for her purse like someone lost in a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Nancy teared up just looking at her, and reached for a tissue. She offered the young woman one before taking one herself.

"So I'll be setting you up for a follow-up," Nancy said. "What time of day is best for you?"

Lynn sniffled, swiping under her nose, and didn't answer right away. "Uh, can I call you and…" Her face crumpled, and she leaned against the counter, gasping in a breath.

Nancy stood and patted the other woman's hand, a tear streaking down her own cheek. "Sure, you can call," she reassured her. "Appointments fill up, so if you could call soon, that would be good. Do you want to sit down?"

Nancy came out from behind the desk, giving Rudy a grateful nod as he took her seat, and escorted Lynn over to one of the open conversational groupings. She grabbed a tissue box and placed it on the small table between them. "It's all right, just breathe," Nancy told her. "It's going to be all right."

Lynn shook her head and swiped under her nose again. "No it won't," she said, her voice muddied by tears. "He's not coming back. I don't know what I'm gonna do."

Nancy didn't know what to say, so she just patted Lynn's back and let her cry. Nancy's own heart ached. She had been terrified by the news of her own pregnancy, but she had known that she and Ned would figure something out. Lynn didn't have that.

Lynn looked up. "Um, I… I don't know if I can do this," she said, and looked into Nancy's eyes. "Is there a… a place I can go…"

Nancy gave her a small smile. "I have a card," she said quietly. "Let me bring it to you. I'll be right back."

Lynn had recovered a little when Nancy returned with a business card and handed it to her. "I wrote my cell number on the back," she said. "There's a weekly support group here for… women who are pregnant. And I just found out that I'm pregnant too, not too long ago. I know it's really scary. I know it's a hard choice to make."

Although Nancy hadn't made a choice, not really. She had told Ned, Ned had been almost instantly pleased… and the baby was both of them. It had been in the back of her head, and she wouldn't deny that; it had only been a fleeting thought, though. She had known she could have an abortion and there would be no question. But she had never really considered it. They had lived in Georgia for what felt like so brief a time, and the logistics: who would take her, how would she pay for it, would she tell Ned…

And all of that had been in the space of a few seconds. What was growing in her womb was a piece of her and Ned. She couldn't pluck it out. It was wanted and loved.

Lynn took the card and made a vague promise that she would call. Nancy wasn't sure if she would ever see the young woman again, and she silently wished her well.

Rudy gave Nancy an understanding smile when she returned to the area behind the desk. "It's always hard when it's like that," he said.

"Will she come back, do you think?"

Rudy shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes they go and they can't go through with it. Sometimes they change their minds. Or they just hope that the problem will… resolve itself." He patted her arm. "Look, it's okay."

Nancy briefly raised her eyebrows—she had to color them to match her wig when she did her makeup in the morning, which drove her crazy—and gave Rudy a little smile. "I guess you kinda get used to it, huh."

He nodded. "But I know it's probably a little hard for you, too. Are you about… twelve weeks or so?"

Nancy flushed and searched Rudy's eyes, debating whether she could lie, whether she would even try. She settled on, "Does anyone else know?"

"Probably." He reached for another check-out ticket the PA was handing over. "But it's all right. You know everyone here loves you. And once Maureen gets back… probably a full-time position will open up. You want a great baby shower? We throw a _great_ baby shower here. All stuff you'll actually use; none of that ridiculous stuff, the cute useless crap."

Nancy nodded slightly. At least her cheeks felt a little less hot.

After her shift was over, Nancy stopped at the store and headed home. Ned didn't want her carrying heavy loads of groceries—he had read two parenting books so far, and took everything in them very seriously—and so she had opted for just a few things: trimmed chicken breasts, potatoes she could cut up and roast, some butter and olive oil. When people at the store or the gas station saw her in scrubs and gave her a knowing smile, she smiled back, but felt a little bit like she was lying. They thought she was one of them, but she felt like she didn't quite fit in anywhere. It was only when she walked into the home she shared with Ned that she could relax.

This is where their child would come home, she thought as she walked in through the garage door, turning off the alarm, remaining still and quiet for a second so she could hear anything suspicious. The lights on the tree were off, and Nancy turned them on, then turned on the oven.

Their home.

Nancy saw the note Ned had left under a fridge magnet as she opened it to put the groceries away.

 _My beautiful, my only,_

 _Thank you again for all you do for me. You are the sunshine in every day and I love you more than I can possibly express. Please take it easy until I come home._

Nancy teared up again as she read his note. Maybe their life together wasn't what either of them had imagined, and she would certainly change the circumstances if she could. But she couldn't deny that Ned was a sweet, incredibly considerate guy she loved with all her heart.

And now that they were deep in this life… she wished that somehow, along the way, the feds _really had_ legally married them. Oh, Ned was her husband in every possible way, and they had more than kept the vows they had spoken to each other. But there was no marriage certificate anywhere legally binding Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson.

Not that there even could have been then, she reminded herself. By the time the feds had started the process of moving them to Georgia, she was certain that both of them had likely been "dead."

Once she had dinner prepped and in the oven, Nancy went to their room and changed into her lounging clothes: a long-sleeved henley and flannel pants, fuzzy socks, and a zippered hoodie. Ned joked that they were perfect for each other because she was cold-natured, and he more than made up for it when they were cuddling. She stretched out on the couch and pulled a soft sherpa-lined throw over her, and started scrolling through the channels.

Before she knew it, before she even realized it, she was resting her eyes for a moment, a moment more…

* * *

"Sweetheart?"

"Mmm." Nancy's lashes were low and she was shuffling as she pulled a pan out of the oven and placed it on the stove.

"Hey. It's all right," Ned said, rushing over to her. "You look like you're about to pass out. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah." She moaned softly. "I just fell asleep on the couch. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, baby. Is that all you needed to do?"

She shook her head. "Potatoes need a little longer," she murmured. She let him slide his arm around her waist and guide her back to the couch, though.

"Here, honey. It's okay, just lie back down. I'll take them out."

"You're so sweet." She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his jaw. "You're my sunshine too, Ned."

He grinned. "I love you, honey. It's all right. Get some rest."

She closed her eyes practically as soon as she was on the couch, and Ned took off his coat and put his lunchbox away, rinsing out the empty spaghetti container again before he put it in the dishwasher. The chicken smelled great, and he looked at the pan of roasting potatoes, then looked in their small pantry and the freezer. Nancy usually opted for a spinach and something-else salad, usually iceberg or romaine, and he set to work putting together two side salads for them.

He silenced the timer for the potatoes as quickly as he could, but he heard Nancy stirring anyway. She moaned and shuffled into the kitchen a moment later. "I'd kill for a cup of coffee right now," she muttered.

Ned gave her a sympathetic smile. "Tea?"

She nodded. "Oh, baby, I could've…" She shook her head when she saw the salads, and when she looked up at him, he saw tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Nan?"

She reached for him and wrapped him in a tight hug. "You're just amazing," she told him.

Ned shook his head. "It's okay," he told her. "Did you have a bad day?"

She gave him another squeeze and released him. "It was mostly good," she said. "I just saw this woman who had come in for a pregnancy test, and she was upset because the baby's father wasn't in her life. And I thought about you, and how this isn't the time either of us would have chosen… but I wouldn't share this with anyone else. From practically the second I told you, you were excited to share this with me. I feel bad that she didn't have that."

"I'm sorry."

She took a deep breath, then went to the refrigerator for salad dressing. Ned had pulled out a mug and filled it with water, and it was in the microwave. He'd pulled out a bag of her decaffeinated tea, too. She gave him a grateful smile.

"You're an amazing man, Ned. And I wouldn't share you for worlds. Other than with our baby."

He kissed her temple. "Same to you, honey. I love you so much. And I always want to give you everything you need."

"So how was your day?"

Dinner was a leisurely affair, although Ned couldn't stop raving about the roasted potatoes. They had come out wonderfully golden, crisp and delicious. Nancy smiled and ducked her head, and Ned could tell she was proud.

After the meal, after they cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher and watched the news, Ned made them both brownie sundaes with warmed leftover brownies, scoops of vanilla ice cream, and drizzled caramel sauce with pecan chips. Nancy released a moan that was almost a hungry growl when he handed her an oversized mug. "Mmm. Get ready for something delicious," she said, rubbing her belly.

Ned laughed. "That it is," he said, sitting down next to her. With the Christmas tree lights twinkling gently from the corner of the living room, the dessert, his wife sitting beside him… he was just filled with a sense of peace.

Nancy fell asleep on the couch beside him once she had finished her sundae, and hearing her quietly breathe was enough to make Ned tired, too. He looked around the living room, the walls they had painted themselves, the Christmas decorations, and then leaned over to give Nancy a kiss on the cheek. He turned off the television and she stirred, making a soft inquisitive sound.

"Bedtime," he murmured.

"Mmm. Okay," she murmured.

She stripped off most of her clothes, the hoodie and flannel pants and socks, before she joined him in bed and cuddled against him. The sheets were cold, and she was shivering; Ned wrapped his arms around her. He had set their alarms, although he had winced when he set hers. He wished they didn't need her income, but he couldn't deny it was useful.

"I can't imagine how it's going to be," she whispered.

"How what's going to be?"

"Being parents." She yawned hugely. "Like this."

"Messy and hard and incredible," he suggested. "But we'll be together. I love you, sweetheart."

"And I will always love you," she whispered, nestling against his shoulder, the slight curve of her growing belly pressed against his side.


	12. Chapter 12

Nancy was reaching for the pitcher of lemonade in the fridge when the tupperware container of leftovers Ned was supposed to have taken for lunch caught her eye. She wasn't surprised he'd forgotten it; he'd been in a rush that morning, reluctant to leave their bed. Nancy had been feeling their baby move for weeks, but that morning had been the first time Ned was able to feel the kicks as well.

The look of amazement on his face was one she never wanted to forget. She'd been able to snap a few quick pictures on her phone before he decided to check her body for any other new changes, a favorite pastime for the both of them.

An hour later, she was walking into Ned's office with what was hopefully enough lunch for the two of them. Her appetite lately rivaled Ned's, something she never would've thought possible.

Carol, the receptionist, waved her in with a quick smile. To Nancy's delight, she was too busy on the phone to stop Nancy to chat. Carol was a sweet older woman, but she asked more questions than Nancy was ever comfortable answering. Nancy had been able to perfect going into Diana-mode when needed, but she had never been able to let her guard down in public. The stakes were far too high.

Nancy made her way to Ned's cubicle, stopping to say quick hellos to a few of his co-workers. Between the dinner parties she and Ned were invited to, and the couple she had thrown herself, she was starting to get to know a lot of his co-workers well. It made their situation feel all the more real—as if the swell of her midsection wasn't enough of a reminder of how real their marriage was. Months ago that would have scared her, but now it was comforting.

"Hard at work, I see."

Ned dropped his cell phone on his desk with a guilty startle at the sound of Nancy's voice. He grinned when he saw her. "I was texting you to see how you're doing, but I won't complain about an in-person check-in." He got up to kiss her cheek, his hand finding his way to her belly. "What are you doing here?"

"You forgot your lunch. Couldn't have you withering away on me."

Ned's eyes lit up. "You are the best. You just saved me from a vending machine lunch." He gestured toward the two bags of chips on his desk.

Nancy grinned. "Are you busy? I thought we could have lunch together."

"Never too busy for you," he murmured, winking. "Hey, Vivian?" he said, calling out toward the cubicle next to his. "I'm going to take my lunch now."

"Wait!" Nancy stopped him when he started leading her away. She reached out to grab the bags of chips from Ned's desk. "What? The baby wants them."

Ned chuckled, but said nothing, wrapping his arm around her. "So how was your morning, sweetheart?"

"I went for a walk and ended up at that park again," Nancy answered, protesting when he tried to take the lunch bag from her.

"Did you see those women?"

She'd found a group of young mothers at a nearby park the week before. They invited her to join them, but this had been the first morning she'd gone back.

Nancy nodded. "Julie's little boy is so adorable," she said, telling him how the toddler had been fascinated with her belly. "And I exchanged numbers with all of them."

"Good," Ned said as they sat down. "Now you'll have Mia and them to talk to."

"Speaking of Mia, she said they've settled on naming the baby after Alex."

Ned chuckled. "Guess that's one thing that wouldn't be different here or back in Illinois." He took a quick look around before lowering his voice to a whisper. "There's no way we'd be having an Edmund Jr."

"True. I guess that'll be the sole factor in the decision, huh? A name that doesn't get her laughed at."

Ned reached out for her hand. "Sweetheart, I know you want to name her after your Mom."

"But we can't, so there's no point in talking about it. Please."

"Okay," he relented. "So, what else did my two favorite girls get up to today?"

Nancy had insisted on finding out the gender of their baby; they'd had their fill of surprises in the past year. She had been enormously relieved, but a little disappointed on Ned's behalf. She had thought he would likely want a son. He hadn't showed a second of dismay or resignation, though. In fact, he'd whispered "a little girl" with suspiciously shining eyes, and Nancy's heart had nearly broken with love.

She offered him a grateful smile. "We missed our favorite guy," she said, squeezing his hand.

* * *

"You looked troubled. Something wrong?"

Ned nodded his head, tossing the pen down on his desk. "Photographics is slammed and won't be able to do the shoot in time. Hiring an outside photographer is going to put us over budget," he answered his co-worker.

In truth, it was Nancy's concern over naming their daughter and not the campaign he was working on that was worrying him.

Oliver winced. "Been there. You're going to have to bribe 'em down in Photographics. Hey, that casserole from last week oughta work. Lily can't seem to stop talking about it."

Ned chuckled. "I'll ask Diana for the recipe."

Oliver rose his hand triumphantly. "Thanks, Nelson. You're going to get me in my wife's good graces for sure."

"Yeah, no problem." He turned his attention to the framed sonogram on his desk. The picture from Nancy's sixteen-week ultrasound had made it to the fridge as soon as they got home, but he'd made sure he had a copy for his desk.

Nancy was nearly in her third trimester. The first two had gone by so fast that he didn't doubt it'd feel like no time before he was holding his baby girl in his arms.

 _His daughter._ He was torn. Every time he envisioned their little girl, he saw radiant blue eyes and hair as bright as the sun. But as much as he'd love a little mini-Nancy, he knew she'd stand out. They would have to make up some story about those blue eyes and blonde hair being thanks to one of their parents.

When he got home, he found her sitting on the bench in the nursery, a book of baby names open on her lap. Over the weekend he had trimmed her reddish-gold hair for her, since she couldn't exactly visit a local salon. It fell in shining locks down to her shoulders, and the sunlight turned it to a golden halo.

"Hey, Nan." He sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her.

"I'm okay," she said, before he even had a chance to ask. "It's not even that we can't name her after my mom, or anyone else for that matter."

"It's that whatever we do name her will be an alias," he finished for her.

"And all the amazing people she's not going to have in her life." Nancy leaned against him, her head on his shoulder.

"Even if it takes a few years, we're going to be able to take her home. And maybe she'll be enough of a distraction that Mom won't feel the need to hug me for a week straight," he joked. The thought of reuniting with his family always made him wonder how they'd react to the life he was creating without them.

"Uh, Alex said this weekend works for him. We need to settle on a color." Ned had already helped him paint their nursery, and now Alex was going to repay the favor.

Nancy eyed him for a minute before nodding. "Okay. The samples are in the bedroom."

* * *

Ned's quick change of topic was still on Nancy's mind as they settled into bed that night. Any time they talked about going back home, he seemed uncomfortable.

She knew it wasn't that he didn't want to go back. Could it be that… maybe he thought she wasn't happy and wanted to back to the way things were before all of this started.

"Ned?" She sat down on her side of the bed, watching as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"Yeah?" He tossed it toward their hamper, missing it by a margin. Shaking his head, he bent down to pick it up and drop it in.

Nancy smiled. How could she not be happy at being married to him? She'd been afraid of this kind of serious commitment for so long, but every day he showed her all the reasons that being with him like this was right. She'd heard so many stories of husbands who didn't help their wives around the house. Ned put his fair share in, more than that at times. They were still both learning some things—a load of laundry that had turned pink had been a lesson, and Ned _could_ actually be a decent cook given the right circumstances—but there was no one she would rather have learned with.

"I'm happy."

Ned grinned, sitting down beside her and wrapping his arms around her. "Good. That makes me happy."

"I don't mean just now. I'm happy here. I need you to know that. I miss everyone, and this is so damn hard sometimes. But I have you and our baby and this life we're building together. Being your wife makes me happy. No matter where we are, I want to be your wife. I just need you to know that after everything I've put you through—"

He stopped her with a kiss. "Thank you. You don't know how much I needed to hear that. Sometimes I feel so guilty about being happy while everyone back home is mourning us. Like we don't deserve this."

"I think the only thing that'll ease everyone's minds if— _when_ we go back is if they know we weren't suffering."

"My mom will be ecstatic to have a daughter-in-law _and_ a granddaughter," he agreed.

"I hate these circumstances, but I love you," Nancy murmured, pulling him in for a kiss. "My husband."

"I love you too," he said. "My wife."

He kissed her again, and again. She combed her fingers through his hair, and took a quiet breath before she stretched out on their bed, gently urging him down to her.

A few times, Ned had been anxious about doing this; he had worried that it might somehow hurt her pregnancy or the growing baby, or that he needed to be very gentle with her and maybe not take things too far. Once Nancy had figured that out, she had read up on it and reassured him. During her first trimester, they had still been learning about each other, really; now, there was no problem. They had just needed to start getting creative about positions, once she hadn't wanted any pressure at all against her belly.

He slowly stripped her clothes off, kissing her, caressing her and worshipping her with his lips and fingers. She moaned when he cupped her breast and gently fondled her with his fingers. Just the barest brush of his palm against her nipple was enough to make her gasp. Sometimes she was dismayed that her body was changing so much, but genuine adoration and love glowed in Ned's eyes when he looked at her.

"How do you…?" He pulled back after kissing and gently licking her nipples a few times, leaving her squirming under him. Her knees were bent, her legs parted. But they couldn't have sex like this.

"Like…" She rolled onto her side, facing away from him, her heart beating so hard as she waited.

And Ned spooned up behind her, his warm, muscular body firm against hers. He took his time with her, caressing her breasts and her belly, sliding one hand between her legs to stroke and tease her there. She turned her head and they made out slowly, punctuated by gasps and moans, her hips slowly rocking against his touch.

Then Ned began to rub against her, and her nipples tightened. She cupped her hand over the one Ned had covering her breast, using the other to hold his head to hers, to keep kissing him. The shift in angle made her shudder.

He stroked her until she was sobbing, and gently nipped at her lower lip. "Ready?" he whispered.

Nancy nodded, bending her knee. "Please," she begged him.

As soon as he was just inside her, he began fondling her again. Nancy began trembling uncontrollably, whimpering, reaching for him. He obliged her, kissing her again, his tongue stroking against hers, gently making love to her. Her eyes rolled back, and she jerked against him, crying out in pleasure.

"That's right," Ned whispered, his breath warm against her ear, and she shuddered. He sounded so pleased with himself, and she didn't begrudge him that. The pleasure he was giving her was incredible. "I love you."

"I love you," she whimpered, gently rocking to meet him. "You feel so good…"

Everything he was doing to her was driving her crazy, and the feel of him making love to her was just _right_. Before the wedding night they had made for themselves, she would never have imagined this, that it was even possible, but God, it was amazing.

And then he whispered an entreaty, telling her to reach the height of her pleasure.

Nancy blushed at what he was saying, and at how intensely she responded to it. She writhed against him, completely at his mercy, completely possessed by him.

But _he_ was the one so vulnerable to her now, and she was the woman carrying his child. And that made her feel incredibly powerful.

They cried out at the same time, his body wrapped tight around hers. He kept holding her as they began to come down, as he began to relax.

Ned kissed her shoulder, her neck. His palm slid down from her breast to the swell of her belly, and Nancy shuddered as he stroked the skin stretched taut over their growing child. He had left his seed inside her, and one day, maybe, there would be a son too. A son to join their strong, beautiful daughter.

"I love you both so much," he whispered.

Nancy guided his hand to where she could feel the baby moving again. "And we love you," she whispered.


	13. Chapter 13

From the couch in Mia's living room, Nancy had the perfect view of her driveway through the window. When Ned's truck pulled into the driveway, she raised her eyebrows and glanced at the time on Mia's cable box. It was too early for him to be home from work, but too late for him to be dropping by for lunch.

It'd been too long since either of them had been on guard, looking for anything amiss, waiting for the sky to fall. As the months passed, it got easier to pretend they were Diane and Ricky. They'd settled into a routine, made friends. But that didn't mean something wouldn't happen that could pull them from this life and force them to start all over again.

She held her hand against her ever-expanding belly and stared at her phone. There were no calls or texts from Ned rushing her home. She was just overacting. Or, at least she hoped.

"Sorry about this," Mia said, pacing the length of the room, gently rocking her crying son back and forth. "We're scaring you from motherhood, aren't we."

Nancy laughed, shaking her head. "He's two weeks old. It's expected." She bit her lip, unsure. "Can I try?"

"Can you take my screaming newborn off my hands for a minute? Absolutely." She gently placed him in her friend's arms. "Thanks again for the casserole. Alex and I have been too tired to cook anything that requires more than the microwave. I owe you."

"You've done more than enough," Nancy protested, finding a comfortable position to hold him in. Her stomach was making it impossible to do more and more things every day.

With Mia ahead in her pregnancy, it'd made Nancy's own somewhat easier. All the questions she'd be asking Edith if she could had found their way to Mia, who was always happy to answer them.

Nancy ran her finger gently down AJ's nose, momentarily distracting him. "I'm happy to help. I know you'll do the same."

"I can't wait until Baby Nelson is here," Mia gushed, sitting down next to Nancy on the couch. "I always wanted a playmate growing up. But there were no kids around my neighborhood. You're an only child too, right?"

Nancy nodded, taking a minute to prepare her response. "But I had two cousins who were like sisters."

"You're amazing!" Mia gasped, lowering her voice to a whisper. "You got him to sleep."

Nancy looked down, and sure enough, AJ was no longer squirming, his little eyelids fluttering. "I'm sure he just tired himself out."

"Nope, you're a natural. That little girl is lucky to have you." Mia gently took her son from Nancy's arms, careful not to wake him. "I'm going to put him in his bassinet, and then I'll be right back."

"Or you could use this opportunity to take a nap too," Nancy suggested.

"You don't mind?"

"I'm probably going to take one myself."

A nap was the last thing on Nancy's mind when she walked through her front door. She followed the sound of the radio playing to their bedroom, sidestepping the baby products that hadn't made their way to the nursery yet.

True to his word, Rudy and the rest of the women's clinic had thrown her a baby shower before she left. They'd asked her to continue working even after Maureen came back, and she had at first. But the fear of leaving her baby with strangers at a daycare had kept her from accepting a permanent position.

The mothers from the park had thrown her a small shower too, and Mia had generously given her duplicates she'd gotten at her own shower that she wouldn't need. A year ago, she and Ned only had each other. She never would've imagined the connections they'd form.

She found Ned pulling clothes out of his dresser, a half-filled suitcase open on their bed.

"Wh-what's going on?"

Ned looked up, his smile bigger than she'd seen in awhile. "There you are! I was afraid I was going to have to freak out Mia and pull you out of her house." He rushed to her, pulling her into his arms. "I got the call, sweetheart."

" _The_ call?" Nancy repeated, afraid to believe he meant what she thought.

"Marcus was arrested. They didn't want to tell us in case anything happened before his trial. But now it's next week, and I'm going to testify." He pulled her in for a kiss. "It's almost over."

Nancy's smile matched Ned's. "I'll start packing."

"Nan," he said slowly, shaking his head. "You should stay here where it's safe. Maybe stay with Mia and Alex just in case? I won't be gone for long. I'm coming back right after I testify to wait for both verdicts—if the jury finds him guilty and if we can come back from the dead."

"You want me to impose on our friends and their newborn and potentially put them in danger?"

"No one is going to know it's me testifying. They're supposed to hide my identity somehow."

"Like in those documentaries where the person is silhouetted and their voice garbled?" Nancy crossed her arms, shaking her head. "Not good enough. The jury and everyone in the gallery might not know it's you, but you know who will? Marcus. As soon as he hears there's a witness who saw him, he's going to know you're alive. And if you think I'm leaving you alone for a second in the same city as him, you're not as smart as I thought you were."

"Okay, okay," Ned relented. "You're right. Believe me, I want you by my side and under the watchful eye of an agent. But the trip is not really the best timing," he said, glancing down at her belly. "You're close to your due date."

"Five weeks. We can make it back in time."

"There's no convincing you to stay, is there?" Ned questioned. He didn't wait for an answer. "Better pack for Chicago then."

* * *

The motel outside Illinois where they met Agent Karmel reminded Ned of the one he'd reunited with Nancy in. Before she joined him, he wasn't sure how he'd get through being in witness protection. Having her by his side, he knew they could get through anything.

In the past year, the life they built together was everything he always hoped he'd have with Nancy one day. Though the circumstances were less than ideal, he wouldn't take it back.

"Hey, Nancy, Ned," Agent Karmel greeted them. "This is Agent Lawson."

"What happened to Agent Parks?" Ned was familiar with Parks, trusted him.

Karmel averted her eyes for a moment. Sighing, she answered, "He's in the hospital. Someone attacked him last night."

Ned reached for Nancy's hand.

"Listen, I don't want you guys to worry," Karmel continued. "This isn't the only case he was working on. It doesn't mean you're any less safe than you were a few weeks ago. We're going to continue as planned.

"From now until you're back in Atlanta, you're with us. Another agent will come pick up your car. I've brought Lawson up to speed. He'll watch Nancy while Ned's testifying."

"What new evidence do you have?" Nancy asked.

Ned grinned. It hadn't taken Nancy long to jump into the investigation.

The four of them sat at the wooden table while Karmel filled them in. "You have Bess to thank," she said. "She had some suspicions about Marcus. She overheard some conversations that didn't sit right with her. It was incredibly stupid of her, but she decided to snoop and it worked."

"Guess she learned a thing or two from you." Ned wrapped an arm around Nancy's shoulders.

"'Incredibly stupid' doesn't even begin to cover it," Lawson muttered. "She could've put everything at risk."

"What did she find?" Nancy asked, ignoring him. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Karmel assured her. "After she went to the police department, she faked a huge fight with him. Told him she was breaking up with him because she thought he was cheating.

"As for what she found..." Karmel grinned. "She had no clue what it meant, but she was able to give us the location of the body. And they were pretty sloppy that night. We were able to get plenty of physical evidence."

"What about his uncle?" Ned asked. "Marcus is only one problem."

"We're building a case. Bess gave us circumstantial evidence that pointed to Leo giving the hit orders to his nephew. But we're hoping Marcus will turn state's evidence against him to avoid having the death penalty on the table."

"And if he doesn't?" Ned looked at Nancy. He could see the concern etched in her face.

Lawson shrugged. "Then you're not safe."

* * *

Ned tapped his fingers against the table as he went over his testimony for the second time that hour. "Can I call Nancy?"

He knew he was on edge, but something didn't feel right.

"Lawson just checked in ten minutes ago," Karmel replied. "She's nervous for you and stress-eating some peanut butter cookies, but otherwise she's okay. Let's just go over this again."

"Agreed," the federal prosecutor said. She flipped through the papers in her open file folder. "Miss Marvin's testimony was excellent, but yours is going to be what secures us a guilty verdict."

" _Peanut butter_ cookies?" Ned shook his head. "Are you sure that's what he said?"

Karmel eyed him strangely. "Yes. Does it matter?"

Ned felt numb. This wasn't happening. "Call him back. He lied."

"Mr. Nickerson, you're going to be called to the stand soon," the prosecutor intrerjected. "It really doesn't matter what type of cookies your girlfriend is—"

"Wife," Ned interrupted her, standing up. "My _wife_ hasn't touched peanut butter since she got pregnant because the smell makes her sick."

Karmel pulled out her phone, quickly dialing. "I'm sure he was just mistaken or there's an explanation…" she trailed off. "He's not answering."

Ned was tense the entire way to the safe house. Why hadn't he insisted Nancy stay at the Chicago field office, surrounded by federal agents, instead of alone with just one who they didn't know?

"Why haven't they called?" Ned asked. "The goal is to stop me from testifying."

"My guess is they didn't want to give us enough time to find her. They probably would've waited until the check-in right before you testified."

"Your phone call probably tipped them off, though, huh?"

"Probably. But we'll find her."

The safe house was empty, everything untouched from how he'd left it that morning. Other than Nancy, who had kissed him desperately before he left.

"There aren't signs of a struggle," Karmel said softly. "She's probably not hurt. They need her as leverage."

The agent's attempt at reassuring Ned was lost on him. It couldn't end like this. Not after everything they'd been through. He couldn't lose Nancy or their baby girl.

"Track her phone. Lawson doesn't know she has it. She'll keep it hidden."

Karmel raised an eyebrow. "You brought the phones we told you to leave at home?"

"Yeah, well, Nancy thought they might actually come in handy. Other than microchipping each other on short notice, there was no way we'd be to track each other if anything happened."

Karmel nodded, placing a call for backup and the GPS on Nancy's phone to be traced. "C'mon, I should drop you off at the office. You'll be safe there."

"Absolutely not," Ned protested. "I'm helping you find Nancy. I'll go on my own if I have to."

Karmel's phone buzzed. "Her phone's at a warehouse downtown."

"Let's go."

 _I'm coming, Nancy_.

* * *

Nancy struggled against the zip ties restraining her hands. If she could just get the right angle… But she couldn't, not without jamming her elbows into her stomach. Agent Lawson hadn't bothered to tie her ankles together; she wasn't much of a flight risk, considering how long it took her to stand up.

"It'd really help if you would stop moving," she said, rubbing her stomach as best she could. "Daddy will be here soon. He's not going to let anything happen to us."

Pain rippled across her abdomen. _I'm in labor_ , she realized. _No, no, no. It's too soon._

The sound of gunfire distracted her from the pain. A moment of silence passed before the door creaked open slowly. Relief washed over when she realized who it was.

"Ned!"

He rushed to her, checking her over for injury. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" Nancy asked. "The gunshots."

"Hopefully from our side." He offered her a lopsided smile. "Karmel told me to stay in the car, so I had to find another way in. Now, are _you_ okay?"

"I'll be better if you can get these off me." She waved her tied hands in front of him.

Ned looked around. "Okay, we're going to need to get up." He helped her stand and led her to the nearby wall. "Please don't move."

It took three tries, but Ned was able to break the ties on one of the nails poking out from the wall.

She sunk into his embrace. "I knew you'd find me."

"Good thing I learned from the best." He held her as close as he could. "Nancy, I've never been so scared."

Movement behind Ned caught her eye. "Watch out!"

Ned turned in time to see Lawson lunging at him, a knife in his hand. He threw himself at Lawson, moving them both away from Nancy.

The knife fell from Lawson's grasp, and Ned was able to kick it toward Nancy. She stepped on it, securing it under her foot just as another contraction hit.

Lawson rolled away from Ned, staggering as he stood up. Ned was quick after him, though, and with a forceful push, he knocked Lawson back to the ground. His head hit the floor with a sickening thud.

"Good thing you didn't stay in the car," Karmel said from the doorway. "It's secure out here. We should get Nancy to the hospital to get checked out," she said, lowering her gun.

"Good idea," Nancy agreed. "I think I'm in labor."

* * *

"Excuse me?"

The receptionist ignored Carson, picking up the ringing phone instead. "Chicago Memorial, one moment please." Pressing the hold button, she replaced the handset. "Yes?" She turned her attention to Carson.

"Carson Drew," he introduced himself. "I got a message that a client of mine was here."

"Name?"

Carson sighed. The message had been vague at best, only stating that one of his clients had been hospitalized and was requesting to see him immediately. He'd almost written it off as a prank, but a voice in the back of his mind—one that sounded eerily similar to his daughter's—had told him to get to the bottom of it.

"The message didn't say—"

"—Mr. Drew?" called out a voice behind him. "We have a private room upstairs set up."

He looked at the woman the voice belonged to. She wasn't a nurse or doctor; she wasn't wearing scrubs or a lab coat. He'd dealt with enough police, though, to guess she was some kind of law enforcement, probably federal.

He murmured his thanks to the receptionist, who gave the slightest nod while picking up the phone again.

"Just this way," she said.

Carson stopped short when they entered the room. "James. Edith. What are you doing here?"

"Some of Ned's personal effects were found," James answered. "We were told before that everything had burned, but I guess there must have been something."

"What's going on?" Carson demanded, turning to the woman.

"Hello," the woman greeted them. "I'm Agent Rita Karmel, FBI," she said, confirming his suspicions. She leaned against the arm of the worn couch.

"There's been a development in the case involving your son, Mr. and Mrs. Nickerson." She paused, turning to Carson. "You're aware of the Nunez case?"

Carson nodded. Bess had turned to him for advice when she first suspected her boyfriend was guilty of illegal activity. "I was at the courthouse earlier."

"Ned was a witness to the murder. Marcus saw him too, unfortunately, and a hit was placed on him."

Edith paled. "His death wasn't an accident?"

Agent Karmel pursed her lips. "The car accident was orchestrated."

Carson studied her carefully. Something wasn't adding up. "Why are you telling us this here at the hospital instead of at the police station?"

Agent Karmel glanced at her phone and nodded faintly when she saw a message pop up. "It's probably easier if I just…" she trailed off, heading to the door. Opening it, she ushered someone in, a tall man wearing scrubs, a mask hanging loose around his neck. He looked familiar, somehow...

Edith gasped, reaching for her husband as a tear slid down each cheek. "N-Ned?"

"Hey, Mom." He took a few steps toward her. "I'm so sorry for how this year must have been for you," he said quickly. "I wanted to keep everyone safe. I had to go into hiding..."

Edith rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him. "Don't be sorry. I'm just glad you're okay. Oh, sweetheart. Where have you been? I want to know everything."

"Give the boy some breathing room," James teased, gently pulling her away from Ned. He took her place, though, pulling his son into a long, hard hug. "Today can't get any better."

Ned chuckled. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."

Carson smiled weakly. He was happy that the young man was safe. His daughter had loved Ned so much, was heartbroken over his death. But he'd give anything to trade places with the Nickersons, to see his child alive again, to hold her in his arms, to get a second chance.

"Do you—do you know about Nancy? About what happened to her?"

Ned shot a quick glance at Karmel. "You didn't tell them anything?" he asked, almost angrily, and the agent shook her head.

"Mr. Drew," Ned shook his head. "She's alive too. You know she wasn't going to stop investigating. They had to bring her in too."

"Where is she?" Carson wouldn't believe it until he saw her again. For the first time in what felt like months, his heart was actually starting to beat again, even so cautiously. He had taken the death of his wife hard, but the day he had found out the fate of his only beloved daughter… he hadn't known the true depths of his soul until that terrible night. His heart just hadn't been in anything since then.

"I'll take you to her room."

 _Room. Was she hurt?_ He was just getting her back; he couldn't be in danger of losing her already.

Carson ignored the signs marking the hallways, his gaze only focused on Ned's back as the young man led them. He ignored the Nickersons' whispers behind him. He wanted to urge Ned to move faster, but Carson already felt like this was a dream, and he didn't want his hope to be crushed as it had in so many others.

Ned stepped aside to let Carson into the hospital room first, and he hurried in to see his daughter. She looked exhausted, and there were a few red scratches on her face, but she was okay.

"You're alive," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears. It wasn't until he heard the crying that he saw the bundle in her arms. "And a mom," he added, surprised. That was a detail his imagination had never filled in before. To find her broken, brutalized, starved, yes; to find her holding a newborn...

"We brought a souvenir back," Nancy joked half-heartedly. When Carson didn't respond, she frowned, looking anxious. "Dad?"

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Oh my God. I can't believe this."

"Which part?" Nancy moved the edge of the pink blanket her daughter was wrapped in away from her reddened face, topped in a white stocking-cap. She couldn't be more than an hour old.

Ned gently took his daughter from Nancy, and Carson took the opportunity to reach down and hug her. She clung to him in return, and he heard a quiet sob in her voice. "Daddy, I missed you so much," she whispered. "I'm so sorry that we left the way we did."

"Shh. Shh. It's all over now. You're home. You're safe." He kissed her flushed, wet cheek. "Oh my God, sweetheart. I can't believe you're here."

"I don't know what to ask first," Edith said. "I want to know everything about the last year."

"Are we allowed…" Ned trailed off looking at Karmel.

She nodded. "Despite the danger of what happened at the warehouse," she chose her words carefully, "the outcome was great news for you two. We still have some loose ends to tie up, but that shouldn't take long."

"What warehouse? What happened?" Edith's eyes narrowed.

"Later," Ned said quickly. "So we're really going to get to stay home."

"It's going to be a huge adjustment coming back," Karmel said. "Coming back from the dead isn't easy. There's going to be lots of paperwork, and you'll scare a lot of people when they first see you again." She grinned. "But you're really lucky. I don't get to be on this side very often."

Nancy winced. "I don't even want to think about any of that. I just want to enjoy that we're all here together." She brushed tears from her eyes. "I didn't think we'd get to have you here for her birth."

Ned chuckled. "I don't think we'd have ever decided on a name if we were still in Atlanta."

"What is her name?" Carson asked.

"Katherine, after Mom," Nancy said. "Katherine Elizabeth Nickerson. We wouldn't be home if it wasn't for Bess."

"She's as beautiful as her mother," Carson said, wiping his own tears. He couldn't seem to release Nancy's hand; he wasn't sure he ever would again.

"That's for sure." Ned smiled down at his daughter.

"So you two were together this whole time?" Edith asked.

Ned nodded. "It was the only thing that made this all bearable."

"Oh, James." Edith reached for her husband's hand. "We got our son back _and_ a granddaughter."

"And a daughter-in-law," Ned was quick to add. "Our marriage may not be legally recognized, but we've been husband and wife for the past year. We'll have a wedding soon, but as far as either of us are concerned, we're not going to ignore the vows we made to each other."

"Of course," James replied. "But you've always been family, Nancy." He turned to his son. "Now give your mother her granddaughter before she rips her out of your arms."

"Shush, James," Edith admonished her husband. She happily took Katherine from Ned, though. "Hello, precious," she cooed.

Carson watched as Ned sat down on the edge of the bed and wrapped his arm around Nancy. Oh, this was the last thing he had imagined happening when he woke up that morning. But he couldn't imagine a better ending to his day.


	14. Chapter 14: epilogue

_Epilogue_

The sound of a quiet, bleating cry woke her.

Nancy opened one eye, then immediately closed it. The sun wasn't completely up yet, but enough light was pouring through the blinds to kill her. The frilly bassinet holding her and Ned's baby was pulled up to the bed; all she had to do was sit up…

With a long sigh, Nancy shoved her pillow up to brace her, then planted her palms and pushed herself up to sitting. "Hey, shhh," she murmured, reaching for her daughter, who was really building herself up to a furious state. "Mommy's here."

Kate had to be hungry; Nancy's breasts were tingling as her milk came down. With quick, practiced movements she took her daughter out of the swaddling wrap and guided her to one breast, helping her latch onto the nipple. Kate made a quiet satisfied noise as she began to nurse, and Nancy's chin dropped to her chest. She desperately wanted to close her eyes, but she couldn't stop gazing at her baby girl.

She missed Ned. That was all there was to it.

If Ned was an incredible husband, he was a natural doting father. He didn't begrudge dirty diapers or midnight feedings, or playing with Kate when Nancy was ready to pass out with exhaustion. Nancy had listened to Mia's stories about Alex's empty promises to help out all the time with growing horror, realizing that was the norm rather than the exception. But Ned was an exception in so many ways, and she was beyond proud to be his wife.

Nancy smiled as she brushed a fingertip gently over Kate's cheek. Today they were making it legal, but that felt like an afterthought. They were already parents, after all, and had been living together for a year, save last night.

And Nancy had thought the south was old-fashioned. All their parents had agreed that for "propriety's sake," they couldn't spend last night in the same bed. As though Kate wasn't evidence enough that it had happened before.

Nancy dropped a soft kiss on Kate's forehead before she switched her to the other breast, and Kate whined for a second before latching on. She was clearly tired too, and might just fall asleep again after a diaper change. Just as Nancy wanted.

But she wouldn't. She had too much to do.

It was the end of the summer. Kate was three months old, and looked more beautiful every day. And Edith and Bess had used every second of those three months to plan the "simple" wedding of Nancy's dreams. She had imagined it could literally be thrown together over a weekend, but oh, oh no, that was entirely out of the question.

Besides, Nancy had to admit, having the three months to start losing her baby weight hadn't hurt. She didn't mind it, and she was taking her time with it, but her body hadn't quite felt like her own for a while, and it felt good to be more at home in her own skin.

And she and Ned had been able to focus on their baby daughter for those three months. The wedding planning was out of their hands. They occasionally picked things out, submitted to be measured or photographed, but they had their time with Kate. And Ned wasn't off to work every morning, kissing her goodbye and praying that she and their baby would stay safe.

They had been grown-ups for a year. Ned would take another job—the feds were working on how he could include the work experience on his resume—and they would have another little house in the suburbs, but this one would be thanks to his parents' generosity, not the decision of some nameless bureaucrat. There would be family dinners on the weekends, Christmas decorations, seeing _Bess and George_ and all their friends…

Nancy reached for a burp cloth and brought Kate up to her shoulder, patting her on the back. She had been surprised by how much she had missed Mia and Alex on their return to Illinois. But Mia had been her only friend for some very lonely months, so she supposed it made sense. When they had returned to Egret Landing to move out, Mia hadn't gasped at Nancy's suddenly reddish-gold hair, or her new name, or any of it. She had just wrapped Nancy in an enormous hug and told her that she was happy for her, and that her new hair very much suited her. Mia had just been bummed that their babies wouldn't be able to go on play dates. And then she had promptly suggested that they get together every year, maybe around July 4, just to catch up with each other.

The past fifteen months had been some of the most exhilarating, heartbreaking, incredible months of Nancy's life. She didn't deny that she would have changed some things, if she could have… but for now, _right_ now, she was exactly where she wanted to be.

She lowered her smiling daughter from her shoulder to gaze into her happy face, into those blue eyes "Diana" and "Ricky" would never have been able to explain. "You ready to see Mommy and Daddy get married for real?" she asked, and Kate grinned, jerkily waving a tiny fist.

* * *

Ned had been feeling disoriented all day. He understood why Kate had needed to stay with Nancy—she was still nursing, after all—but he hadn't been away from Kate for more than a couple of hours during her entire life, and it felt _wrong_ for her not to be nearby. He had slept just as lightly as he had since the day of her birth, waiting for something—a call from Nancy that she needed him right away, _something_.

He hadn't spent a night outside Nancy's arms in over a year, either. Sleeping alone should probably feel luxurious or decadent, but it just felt lonely.

To kill some time, he went over to their new place and made sure everything was in order. Nancy had developed a definite taste for lemonade during their life in Georgia, and his mother had made a pitcher for him to take over. The kitchen was fully stocked. The nursery was set up, as little as they would actually use it. Wherever they were, Kate was with them; the nursery was just her future room, a space for her ever-expanding wardrobe.

Not that Kate would be with them tonight. As much as Nancy and Ned rolled their eyes at the idea, everyone else saw it as their official wedding night, and winkingly referred to their need to spend time alone together. Given how unconventional everything else about their "marriage" had been, well, maybe they deserved it. A night without the baggage of a forced relationship, without forged identities, without the weight of guilt and loneliness. They were home. Marcus was dead. No one from the Nunez family was going to threaten their precious baby girl's life.

The wedding ceremony itself was going to be in Carson Drew's backyard, among the late-summer roses. Carson had spared no expense; his baby girl had come back from the dead, and for that miracle, he would give her anything her heart desired. Her requests had been few, though. Neither she nor Ned had wanted a huge wedding; their return from the dead had been sensational enough, and they just wanted close friends and family there. He could remember her saying that, a long time ago, mentioning a simple white dress, a simple cake.

Not that anything about her was simple; far from it. She was radiant, exquisite, and was perfect all by herself. She didn't need an elaborate setting to showcase her beauty, and she had blushed prettily when he had told her so.

As soon as Ned returned to his parents' house, he was drafted to help with preparations. Everything had seemed to be finished last night, but his mother was helping Hannah and Mrs. Marvin and Mrs. Fayne cater the wedding. Ned had tried to point out that there wouldn't be _that_ many guests, but his mother had reasonably pointed out that splitting the work between four people had made it far more manageable. Plus, Bess's mother definitely knew how to make an excellent cream puff.

He helped unpack coolers full of food and set up punch bowls, but as soon as everything was under control, Ned snuck upstairs to see Nancy and Kate. Nancy was singing quietly to their daughter as she nursed, and Ned's heart ached to see it. He loved them both so much, and he had fallen in love with their little girl as soon as the nurse had placed Kate in Nancy's arms. He still couldn't believe that together, he and Nancy had created something so perfect.

"Let me burp her," Ned said softly.

Nancy looked up and gave Ned a radiant smile. "We missed you."

"I missed you both, too. Every minute."

"Won't be too long now."

Ned nodded, but their gazes locked and held, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Is this what you wanted?" he murmured. "This, today… are you happy? Tell me the truth."

Nancy handed Ned the burp cloth and their daughter, and pulled her top back into place. "I am more than happy today," she said. "And I mean that. There's a lot I would have changed about what we've been through, but there's nothing I would change about where we _are._ I know sometimes I roll my eyes when we talk about today, but it does mean a lot. It's our parents and our friends, being here to see what they couldn't before. Being able to share our lives and our baby with them. It's been real ever since we spoke our vows to each other, but…" She shrugged. "But this is more."

He nodded. "Exactly," he murmured. Kate burped, and Ned wiped her mouth and smiled at her. "All better?"

She recognized him. Ned didn't know why that tugged at his heartstrings, but it did. She blinked up at him, a smile curving her toothless mouth. He cuddled her against him again and she relaxed, one fist clenching the material of his shirt.

"I love you, sweetheart," Ned whispered, and kissed her soft warm cheek.

* * *

The minister was very understanding; Nancy and Ned had lived under very unusual circumstances, after all. And Kate was no secret from any of the guests. But Nancy refused to disguise her or be ashamed of her. She was their daughter, and Nancy and Ned both adored her.

Katherine Elizabeth Nickerson was dressed in a long, slippery white gown, the same gown she would wear for her christening. She pulled industriously on her white pacifier and looked around the gathered crowd, but she seemed content to be in her grandmother's arms, watching the action from the front row.

They hadn't needed to set up a rose arbor; it was already there, and the late roses were blooming as they wound through the arch. Ned was standing there, beside the minister, immaculately dressed in a dark suit and a crisp buttoned shirt, a pale blue tie. He looked devastatingly handsome. The glasses he had worn when pretending he was Ricky, kept as a souvenir of their year together, were nowhere in evidence. Nancy had been relieved to trash the wig and contacts once and for all.

She looked down at her long, simple white dress. The wide shoulder straps and empire waist bodice were sparsely beaded, but the full skirt fell from just beneath her breasts to her ankles, disguising her silhouette. Bess had suggested a rhinestone headpiece with a short veil, and Nancy had liked the way it looked. She wore it now with her hair in a loose twist at the nape of her neck, a few loose tendrils hanging down to frame her face.

Nancy and Ned would always keep the wedding rings they had worn for that year, but they had bought a new set for their legal marriage. Nancy's ring for Ned was resting at the base of her thumb, and she smiled at him as she took her slow steps down the grassy aisle, a red, pink, and white bouquet in her hands.

Mia and Alex were in the audience, along with their baby, who was just as curious as Kate. Bess was there, her eyes gleaming with tears, beside George. All their closest friends and family, the people who loved them and had mourned them for the past year, were there to witness their union. When Nancy glanced around, she didn't see a single dry eye in the audience.

The minister greeted the crowd and began all the formalities of the ceremony, but Nancy couldn't seem to concentrate. Kate dropped her pacifier and began whining for Nancy, and Nancy reached for her daughter, exchanging her bouquet for her baby. Kate relaxed once her mother began rocking her, and Nancy smiled and gestured for the minister to continue. The minister smiled at Kate before continuing in her even, placid voice.

"Please repeat after me. I, Edmund Nickerson…"

Nancy listened, but she couldn't help remembering the first vows Ned had spoken to her, that he would love and support her no matter what her name was. Tears rose in her eyes at the memory.

And then, when Ned was repeating his vows, Kate released a quiet whine and reached for her father.

Ned stopped, chuckled, and reached for their daughter. He finished promising to love, cherish, and honor Nancy for the rest of his life, then kissed Kate's nose. "And I'll love you too, baby girl," he told Kate. "Forever and ever."

From the audience, Bess sighed loudly in envy.

"And I, Nancy Drew, take you, Edmund Nickerson, as my lawfully wedded husband," Nancy said. "For better or worse, sickness or health, richer or poorer, alias or not. I will love, honor, and cherish you for the rest of my days, knowing that my heart is in the best possible hands. You are my perfect match, and I love you with all my strength. I know our life together will be incredible… because there she is, our angel, in your arms."

From behind her, Nancy heard Edith choke back a sob.

Once they had exchanged rings and been pronounced legally wed, Ned drew Nancy toward him for a kiss with their daughter between them, and when Kate waved her tiny fists in happiness, the rest of the crowd burst into joyous applause and happy cheers.

The reception started immediately after, and it truly was a party. Almost everyone there had heard at least part of the story: that Ned had witnessed a murder, reported it to the authorities, and had almost immediately gone into protective custody, with Nancy following soon after. They hadn't talked all that much about the interim, their life in Georgia, the perpetual fear and terror that had become, finally, just a background hum in their otherwise ordinary life, finding jobs and making friends and finally deciding to let themselves be the married couple they had pretended to be. To Bess, the story was romantic, even if she was still a little hurt that Nancy hadn't been able to somehow let her know that she was okay. To her father… well, Nancy had seen it in his eyes. While he had believed her dead, she knew he had been devastated.

They all needed this. It was the beginning of Nancy and Ned's life together, in a very elemental way, but more than that, it was a way to thank everyone for all they had done. It wasn't quite an apology—Ned definitely wouldn't have gone into witness protection if he had been given _any_ other choice, and Nancy had only consented to go in once the lives of her loved ones had been threatened—but it was a way to close the chapter. They had missed a lot, and Nancy and Ned were more than grateful to rejoin the people they had missed so much.

The cake was perfect, somehow both moist and light, and all the guests raved about the home-catered finger foods. Nancy was sticking to sparkling grape juice, since she would be nursing Kate before they left for their one-night "honeymoon," but the other guests toasted them with champagne and danced and laughed until the electric tea lights had turned the moonlit garden into a fairyland.

After their departure, between lines of guests waving searing-white sparklers in the suburban night, Nancy and Ned laughed as they ducked into his new car. She smoothed the skirt of the loose, comfortable yellow dress she had changed into and looked over at her new-again husband.

"I'm gonna miss Kate so much tonight," he admitted.

She nodded. "A part of me wants to run inside and just grab her," she admitted. "Your mom has plenty of bottles, and I'm sure she'll be fine, and… it'll be nice to not wake up four times tonight to feed her or change her diaper…"

Ned gave her a lopsided smile. "I can think of other reasons to wake up tonight," he murmured.

Nancy blushed, and had to laugh at herself. "I feel like the opposite of a new bride, whatever that is," she said. "And yet you just made me blush."

"You _are_ a new bride. We were just able to celebrate with the people we love. I think that's worth something." He reached over and touched her chin, then leaned down for a kiss. "And you looked so beautiful. I love you, Nan."

She grinned at him. "And we'll have actual wedding photos now," she said. "No lying about some clichéd Florida beach wedding with our toes in the sand."

Ned started the car. "Ever since we had Kate… it feels like _that_ was the real start to our lives. This has been important. It's still one of the happiest days of my life. And I love that Kate felt a need to get involved during the ceremony."

Nancy laughed. "I used to see mothers so mortified in public when their babies yelled or cried, and I just thought they were cute. Usually." She tucked a loose lock of hair behind her ear. "I get it, though. But today was _our_ day, and that included her. I'd say she's a lot more appropriate than a bouquet, anyway."

The porch light clicked on as they approached, and Nancy glanced around. Their new place was on a quiet street, not too far from either of their parents, and Ned had already mentioned putting a swingset in the modest backyard once Kate was old enough for that. They still had some finishing touches to put on the house—Nancy had even found a place for her salvaged and re-upholstered gossip chair—but it was starting to feel like theirs, and she loved it.

Then Ned touched her shoulder, and she turned to look at him. "One last wedding tradition," he said. "One we didn't get to do last time."

She raised her eyebrows. "I think we broke practically _every_ rule the first time," she pointed out.

Ned chuckled. "True," he said. Then he unlocked the front door, and picked her up.

Nancy laughed as he carried her over the threshold. "Now we're official, huh," she said softly.

"Yep. Now I guess we are." He smiled at her. "Can't blame it on some incredible sangria and the inferno of attraction between us. Now everyone knows that Kate's parents made her with love."

Nancy laughed again as Ned put her down. "I wonder how many times Kate's gonna roll her eyes at you," she said. "But she's always going to know that you love her. You're an incredible dad."

"And you're a wonderful mom." Ned leaned down and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "Can I take you to bed, sweetheart?"

She nodded, sliding her arms around his neck and gazing up into his eyes. "Yes, please," she whispered.

Their bed was massive, king-sized; Edith had said they would appreciate it when Kate wanted to cuddle during storms, if they added cats or dogs to their small family. The sheets were luxurious, so soft against her skin as her new husband stripped her clothes away. He followed the path of his fingertips with kisses, and her entire body seemed to be tingling as she moved under the covers, watching him strip down too.

He was beautiful, so beautiful. And he looked at her as he always did, like the sun rose and set on her.

They moved together as soon as he joined her in bed, their lips meeting in kiss after lingering kiss, the warmth of his muscular body, the ease of his caress… when he touched her she responded eagerly, reaching for him too. Feeling him aroused never failed to make her feel powerful; she loved being desired by him, and how much he seemed to need her.

"Baby," he whispered against her neck. "Oh, Nan…"

"I love you too," she whispered, draping her leg over his hip. "I need you too, honey. I always have."

She let him roll her onto her back and trail kisses down her body, nuzzling and kissing her, teasing her until she was mewling and sobbing. Soon the pleasure of his touch and his lips against her skin had her screaming his name, his _real_ name for the first time ever, overwhelmed by how it felt.

And Ned kissed his way back up her body, nuzzling and kissing her breasts without touching her nipples, kissing her collarbone, her neck. He settled on top of her and she closed her eyes, savoring their closeness. She was exhausted, and she and Ned had been exhausted for almost the entirety of the past three months, but it had been too long since they had been able to take their time making love. Usually, if Kate was down for a nap, _they_ were too.

"Do you want it from behind?" he whispered into her ear, and she shivered. "Or do you want to be on top?"

She shook her head slowly. "Give me a minute," she murmured, sliding her arms around him. "Shhhh."

Ned chuckled. "All right, baby."

They held each other, just breathing, as she slowly recovered. "I love everything about you, you know," she whispered. "The way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste. The way you touch me. You're incredible."

She felt him smile against her skin. "You are," he whispered. "I love you, sweetheart."

When she felt herself trying to drift off to sleep, she roused and began kissing Ned's neck. "On the side of the bed," she whispered.

"What is?" He rubbed his palm over her ass, the back of her leg, as she moved slowly against him.

"I want you standing up there." She moved to give him a long, deep kiss.

"Mmm. You're ready for that?"

She nodded. They had definitely been cautious once her doctor had cleared them to have sex again; she had been healing and tender for a while, and they had taken things easy.

But once he slid out of the bed and maneuvered her into position, holding her hips up, the feel of him made her shudder and sob. "Oh my _God_ ," she cried out, her muscles flexing as she tried to draw him back again, whining at the loss when he pulled back.

"Good?"

"Fuck," she swore. "Ngh, _faster_ …"

Ned moaned in happiness. "Feels that good, huh."

"Yes," she sobbed. "More. Please…"

Encouraged by her begging, he began to move more rapidly, until she was bucking, her head whipping back and forth. "Yes, _yes_ ," she cried, sobbing desperately. "Oh my God, _so good_ …"

Ned nodded, his skin beginning to glow with exertion. "You feel so good," he told her.

"Oh my God, _you_ do," she whined. "Baby, don't stop…"

Her back arched as she screamed. She began to tremble, her hips jolting, and she screamed again when they reached the height of pleasure together. She could feel him trembling, could hear both of them panting, her heart pounding as they experienced the incredible joy of being entirely one, and then Ned moaned as he slumped against the bed.

"Fuck," he panted. "Oh my God…"

"Mmm. Oh my God."

She wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally moved her limp body again so her head was on her pillow, and cuddled her into his arms. They were both still naked, their bodies still tacky with sweat, and she felt so relaxed that she just murmured happily.

"So," he whispered. "Do you feel thoroughly, completely like Mrs. Ned Nickerson? With every single atom of your being?"

She giggled. "Very much so," she told him with mock seriousness. "I feel claimed and loved and… very thoroughly fucked. _Mmmmm._ "

Ned laughed. "As well you should," he said. "And I feel very honored to call you by the name you've had for the last year. My wife."

"My husband," she whispered happily, closing her eyes as she nuzzled against him. "Now let's get some rest. Someone promised to wake me a few times tonight…"

"Only if you're interested."

"Give me a few hours and I will be."

Ned chuckled and kissed her cheek, then nestled against her too. "Deal."


End file.
